A Tale of Four Brothers
by WishfulWriting
Summary: This story begins when Jack first meets the Mercer family, but his old past won't let him go just yet. It's about Jack trying to learn to have a normal life, figuring out what normal is, and the Mercers learning to live with him. Main characters are Bobby
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first attempt at something like this. Loved the movie and the dynamics of the brothers, started reading some fanfic, and decided to start my own. The story begins with Jack meeting the Mercers for the first time, and who knows where it will progress from there? Comments, criticisms, and suggestions are welcome. I'm hoping to have fun with it. I have a bit written already so updates will come quickly, at least in the beginning!_

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**Chapter 1**

Jack was eleven years old when he came to the Mercers.

Eleven years old and yet his eyes held knowledge and suspicion beyond his years. He had a youthful face but those eyes gave him away. He wasn't your average eleven year old. If he was, he wouldn't feel such a sickening, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach.

This was a very long car ride.

Today was an important day. Well, important was maybe a silly word to use. He was being placed again. Again. He wished he could tell himself he was hopeful, but it was too hard to lie to yourself. He didn't understand how the system worked, because none of these homes ever actually wanted him there, and he had no idea how it seemed like such a good plan to send him around.

He was ten when this moving around started. Ten when someone finally believed what had been done to him and got him out of the shithole called home.

He had to admit that some of the homes since then had been improvements. Some of these people pretended to have patience, pretended to want him there. Some of them had other kids. That was still better than the group homes. Although the group home was starting to feel familiar.

He rolled up his sleeve and eyed the huge bruise on his arm. It was pretty new and he wondered how long it would take, and how many colors it would turn, until it faded and went away. The one on his back was worse anyway.

He began to think about the day again and once more his stomach filled with dread. That was a terrible feeling and there was nothing to make it go away.

He tried to think about what they'd told him. Evelyn was her name. Evelyn Mercer. An older lady who apparently had a real habit for taking in foster children. He didn't know much other than that, and he really hoped she wasn't like all of the others. He'd already made up his mind. He could just run away. He knew his way around more now. The last home had given him a lot more freedom. He'd started to see what Detroit had to offer.

"Jack."

The voice belonged to his social worker, Anthony. That meant they were almost there. He started to focus more on the houses in this neighborhood. It could be any one of these.

"Jack. Are you listening to me?" Anthony turned off the radio and looked over at Jack. He sighed and shook his head. "Listen to me, this is important. You want this to be your permanent home, don't you?"

Permanent? Jack looked at him, brow furrowed. He'd started to believe that word had no purpose in his vocabulary.

"Well, there's a chance if you actually behave yourself," the man replied. "So for once, how about you try your manners, respect your new home, and think before you answer people."

Jack zoned out as the man continued. Be polite, be courteous, all that shit. Yeah, yeah. Of course. As though these simple suggestions would have been saving graces in his other situations. Still, it was hard to go into things with open arms. He had no idea what to expect, and therefore couldn't very well prepare himself.

"And for God's sake, will you roll down your sleeves, Jack? No one wants to see that. Don't immediately show them what a roughhousing klutz you are."

Roughhousing klutz? Yeah, so the last place hadn't worked out because he was a klutz, right? Jack mumbled under his breath but it was barely words, even to him.

"I never know if you're listening to me," Anthony persisted.

"Do you have a cigarette?" Jack asked.

Anthony glared at him. "No. And for God's sake, you are not making a habit of smoking. Not now, you aren't. You're eleven."

No smoking now? Jack would admit it wasn't something he'd tried very long ago, but it was something he felt he definitely felt relaxed doing. And the common response, that he was eleven years old, was not a good enough objection. Because, hell, there were a lot of things that as a eleven year old people shouldn't have done with him.

"I do not want any phone calls," Anthony was saying. He was slowing down now; they had to be close. "I want you on your best behavior. And when your brothers—"

"I don't have any brothers."

"Your new brothers."

"What new brothers?"

Anthony grunted. "You haven't been listening to me at all, have you, Jack? Jesus. You're off to a great start already, aren't you? Look, Evelyn is one of the best. You need to believe me. This is perfect for you. Do not mess it up."

Jack swallowed. They car had stopped. He suddenly felt frozen in his seat. He looked at the house they were in front of and it looked pretty normal, though he knew not to judge a book by its cover. He didn't know what was inside.

"Does…"

Anthony looked at Jack. The boy had gotten a little pale. "What, Jack?"

"Does she have a husband or anything?"

"No, Jack. Just two boys with her right now."

Jack nodded.

"You ready?"

Jack didn't answer.

"Let's go." Anthony opened his door, yet the boy made no move. With a sigh, Anthony simply reached over to undo the boy's seatbelt. Suddenly Jack took a deep breath and stiffened as the man's hand roughly undid the belt. He ground his teeth together. "Say hello to your new home," Anthony persisted.

Suddenly Jack yearned to be eighteen. He believed that was the magic number. Freedom. No more being shipped around. No more Anthony shipping him around and giving him that long look of disappointment when he came back.

Anthony looked at his watch. Five o'clock. It was getting dark. He told Evelyn he would be there by four. They were already late, and he looked intently at Jack. He knew the kid was nervous but enough was enough. He knew the routine. "Jack, I'll get your suitcase. Come on. I don't have patience for this."

Slowly, Jack got out of the car, watching Anthony grab his small suitcase from the backseat. He looked at the house again and scowled. This didn't feel like a good idea suddenly.

"Get that look off your face. It's time to make a good impression," Anthony persisted. "We should have gotten you a haircut too, huh?"

Anthony was already walking towards the house. Jack looked around and wondered what would happen if he just started to run away. He wasn't sure where he would go though. Or what kind of neighborhood this was. He'd have no where to sleep, and it would be a late start.

"Jack!"

Startled, Jack looked up. Anthony was almost at the front porch. He looked like he was losing patience too. Jack swallowed and slowly obeyed, more afraid of running from Anthony than following him to the house.

Anthony was already ringing the doorbell.

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Hope you enjoyed-- More is coming soon, I promise. (It's already written!) 


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who has been kind enough to leave me feedback, I really appreciate it! Being that this is my first Four Brothers story it was really encouraging to see positive responses. :o) To answer a common question, Bobby is in this story. In fact the interaction between Bobby and Jack is my favorite, so I would definitely not leave him out. There's still a lot of introductory details that I'm trying to figure out, so thanks for bearing with me. Feedback is definitely much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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**Chapter 2 **

Evelyn heard the doorbell despite the racket inside the house. No matter how many times she yelled from the kitchen for them to stop the indoor hockey, they were persistent. There would be a moment of silence, as though they were listening, and then it would start up again. She was starting to think that those hockey sticks would be hidden very soon…

"Angel! Jeremiah!" she began.

As predicted, they fell silent. As they always did moments after they heard her scolding. She knew in minutes their mischievousness would continue, and she sighed. Jack should see how this house actually was, after all. There was no point in pretending teenage boys would behave long enough for a new arrival.

Just as she was opening the front door she heard Angel begin yelling at Jeremiah again, several colorful words escaping his mouth. With a sigh, she just smiled and shook her head. What timing they had. Boys would be boys.

She took in the sight on her front door and was filled with optimism. "Hello, again, Anthony!" she greeted. "Please come in."

"How are you, Evelyn?" the social worker replied, smoothing down his tie. He turned around and gestured at the boy hidden behind him in the doorway. "Jack, don't be shy, come on in, and let's introduce ourselves."

Evelyn smiled as the two entered, a knowing glint in her eyes. Jack was quiet, stepping into the house without a sound, eyes quickly searching the room to take in as much as he could. He was sullen and looked moody, with unruly light brown hair and a dirty sweatshirt. His jeans looked like obvious hand-me-downs, ripped at the bottom where they dragged too long. Evelyn loved him immediately, and she knew her boys would too.

"Jack, this is Miss Mercer," Anthony began, putting down Jack's bag. He shut the door behind them and didn't miss Jack's nervous look at the click of the lock. "She'll be taking care of you now, and I hope you can make yourself comfortable here." He eyed the boy, whose gaze still traveled anywhere but to the adults in front of him, absorbing details of the new house. He didn't blame the curiosity, but Jack could at least show some interest in his new foster mother.

Anthony gave Evelyn an apologetic look. "He's a quiet kid, Evelyn, you know. But he'll warm up to you."

Evelyn nodded comfortably. Jack's demeanor didn't bother her at all. "Oh, don't apologize, we'll all get along fine."

"Jack," Anthony said firmly. Jack didn't look up. "Can you please give me your attention for five minutes? That's all I ask, and it's the least you can give me after I drove you here." He began to grow a bit frustrated. "Jack, come on. Do you hear me?"

Jack finally turned and gave him a skeptical look. The persistent nagging made him irritated. So did the talking about him like he wasn't even in the room. This was so routine, and he had no idea why Anthony was being so persistent. "Fuck, Anthony. It's not like you didn't get paid to drive me here. Just like you'll get paid to pick me up whenever it is Evelyn asks."

Anthony worked his jaw for a moment and then gave Evelyn an awkward chuckle. Focusing back on the eleven year old, who unfortunately was already seeming defensive, he said stiffly, "Now you watch your language, Jack. And you'll call this fine woman Miss. Mercer. Where are your manners?"

"It's quite all right," Evelyn objected. "It's a new house, a new experience. I don't blame you if you're feeling nervous, Jack." She could hear the TV on inside now, and she could see Jack's eyes drift in that direction. She looked forward to the boys meeting.

"He knows better," Anthony said stiffly, giving Jack a look. Jack felt his heart speed up a little bit and felt a little worried at Anthony's tone. He stood his ground though. Both Anthony and Evelyn were trying to impress each other at this juncture. They wouldn't take anything out on him just yet. And Anthony was out of range now; this wasn't his territory to judge anymore.

Jack hadn't quite made eye contact with his new guardian yet, so he allowed himself to quickly give her the once over. She was sweet and sugary now, looking like any well groomed graying grandmother. He wondered whether a transformation would take place once Anthony left. It was hard to tell. The house smelled nice and was warm and well-lived in, but often that was a facade. He wondered what the rest of it looked like and who it was he heard laughing in the other room.

"Is that alright with you, Jack?" Anthony was saying.

Jack blinked. He had completely missed the conversation. He felt a little guilty about that; maybe he should make a little more effort this time around. Like a new resolution. But that involved more concentration than his nervousness was willing to allot him. "What?"

"His attention span is miserable," Anthony told Evelyn. "But I'm sure you can handle him. Really, he's harmless. And I know we've already gone over a lot of the details, but if you have any questions or concerns, Evelyn, please feel free to check with me." Anthony handed her a card. "I know you have my number, but please, don't hesitate. Jack's a great kid."

There was a loud crash from inside and the three turned their heads, alarmed. The house was now silent. Evelyn just shook her head. "If you don't mind excusing me for just a moment," she began, "let me get your two numskull brothers to introduce you all. I'll have them show you to your new room, Jack."

Jack didn't say anything, wondering about the crash. Were people fighting now? What happened? He heard laughter again so it couldn't have been too bad. The idea of brothers was interesting. Sometimes there were other kids at his other foster homes, but none of them had really given him a chance to be a part of their ranks. He'd always considered himself an outsider from their perspective. Whether it was dirty looks, scapegoating, or slaps behind the scenes, no one had ever quite welcomed him as a sibling.

As Evelyn disappeared, Anthony began to lecture again. "Behave, please. All I ask is that you try to be on best behavior here and give it a good, new shot, Jack," he persisted. "This is the best home anyone can offer you, and you better realize that. Evelyn Mercer is a saint. So you respect her. No more smoking. I don't know where you picked up that new habit anyway. No more running away. Answer when you're asked a question, and watch your mouth. If we hear you've been disappearing for days again, you'll have some unwanted visitors, do you hear me? Leave your old neighborhoods be."

Anthony was really keen on this Evelyn lady. Jack hadn't heard him praise any foster parent like this before. He always told him to behave, but not this sincerely. Of course he always told him to be polite and what a great chance this new place would be, but this was different.

He wondered if he was trying to overemphasize or exaggerate her for any particular reason. That could also be a bad sign. Usually they convinced a foster parent to take a foster kid, not the other way around.

"Understand?" Anthony insisted.

"Okay," Jack agreed, appeasing Anthony. He began to feel nervous again. Anthony was going to leave soon. And as much as he thought he disliked Anthony, the man did offer a sense of protection from whatever existed in this house. Even his criticism and nagging was better than a lot of the other houses he was stuck at. So Jack hesitated having him leave. For the time being at least. As soon as he would leave, Jack would see for himself what was in store for him, and that was nerve-wracking.

Voices from the next room ended the two's conversation, and in a moment Evelyn returned with two black teenage boys in tow. One was laughing, and the other looked slightly more apologetic, probably over whatever had just broken. Evelyn just had a proud look on her face, and Jack almost got the feeling she was proud to introduce these two to him.

"Angel, Jeremiah," Evelyn began, "I would like you two to meet our new addition, Jack. Jack, this is Jeremiah," she pointed to the currently serious one, "and Angel. You'll meet Bobby when—Angel, dear, do I dare ask what is so funny?"

"Nothing, ma," he replied, calming himself but still smirking. "It's nothing. Jack, it's nice to meet you. Jerry and I were excited you were coming today. It's been too dull here lately. You just missed an awesome game of hockey though."

"Indoors no less." Evelyn rolled her eyes.

"Nice to meet you," Jack said quietly when Anthony prodded him out of simply staring at them. Both were older than he was. He was really bad at judging ages though so he wasn't sure exactly how much older. All he knew was that they were bigger than he was. He reminded himself to try not to judge them; they looked friendly enough. And hockey? Inside? That was kind of bizarre. Sounded fun though.

"You'll get used to these two," Evelyn promised. "Boys, do you want to show Jack to his room? Jeremiah, take his bag for him, will you?"

"Yeah, no problem," Jeremiah answered, moving forward to grab the bag off the floor. "This all?" He asked Jack. Jack didn't answer right away, he looked kind of distracted, and so he assumed it was. "Come on, I'll show you upstairs. Angel, come on."

Evelyn watched the three boys leave and turned to Anthony. "This will be great," she assured. "Really."

"He takes a lot of patience," Anthony warned. "No one's had enough yet. If he doesn't respond right away, it doesn't mean he's not listening. He's a lot smarter than he tries to act as well. And his attitude needs a bit of an adjustment, but it's more a front than anything else. He's a great kid, really, Evelyn."

"You don't have to tell me, Anthony. I know he is. I can tell. You know, sometimes all it takes is having a big brother to show you the ropes. Makes a big difference."

Anthony nodded. "I hope so."

"I guarantee it," Evelyn said with a smile. "My other boys will make a big impact on him."

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Thanks for reading! 


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again to everyone for all of the reviews. It really makes my day! I think this chapter is still kind of slow with starting things out, and when I reread it seemed a little more jumbled than it felt when I heard it in my head writing it, but hopefully it's okay! You know how it goes. Anyway, here's chapter 3: Still Jack and getting to know his new surroundings more. More coming soon!  
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_Oh and Happy 2006! _

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**Chapter 3**

The boys made their way up the stairs, leading Jack to another part of his new life. There were mutual glances of curiosity between the new 'siblings' as each tried to make out the personality of the other.

When they reached the landing, Jeremiah headed for the room that ma had designated earlier as Jack's.

"This is your room. We just cleaned it up and stuff, which is funny since I haven't cleaned my own room in like a week," Angel said, watching Jeremiah toss Jack's bag on the bed. He flipped on the light. "Not too bad, huh?"

"I actually get my own room?" Jack asked.

"So you do speak?" Jeremiah asked with a laugh. He was excited about a new little brother. Ma had said 'go easy on this one', and he wasn't completely sure what that meant, but Jack seemed cool so far. Quiet in the beginning, but he had potential. "I was going to say, we're not that scary. Although it's probably weird coming into a new house again, right? But, yeah, bro, you get your own room."

Jack nodded, looking around. "I wasn't expecting that." Although this was only one minute looking in at the room, if that, it still really didn't feel like his.

"Do you like it?" Jeremiah asked.

Jack nodded and shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"So, how old are you?" He studied his new brother, taking in the floppy hair and inquisitive eyes. He was quiet, but he hoped it was only because things were new. Ma hadn't told them exactly where Jack had come from, and he didn't want to ask too many questions right away. They were all from the same kind of background, and he could remember his first day at the Mercer house too. It seemed so long ago. It did take a while to adjust.

"I'm eleven," Jack replied. They couldn't be that much older than he was. They were just teenagers.

"So…. Where are you going to school then?" Jeremiah asked.

Jack shrugged. School seemed so long term. He couldn't possibly think about school right now. Although he had to admit that sometimes going to school was a good way to get out of a home. But at this point he didn't want to think about that. He just continued to look at his room. It was decorated nicely, but not like a boy's room. It looked lived in but set up new and fresh.

Set up for him.

"So where'd you come from anyway?" Angel asked.

Jack shrugged again.

"You don't know? Or you don't care?"

"Or he's just not listening," Jeremiah answered with a laugh. He gave Jack a little push forward into the room. "Go 'head and check it out, kid. You don't have to stand in the doorway forever."

Jack stiffened at the push, but he reminded himself to calm down because these guys were actually being really nice to him. It wasn't a real push anyway, so what was getting defensive going to do? He was pretty defenseless against them anyway. He was just reacting out of habit, but sometimes habits had to change. He walked into the room towards the window.

"Angel, you better buy ma another one of those statues too," Jeremiah was saying. "That's like the third thing you broke this week. She loved that statue."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Shit, man, it's not a big deal, you know. And I really don't think she loved it that much."

Jeremiah shrugged. "Fine," he replied with a sarcastic 'oh like you would know' air. "Just don't bring it up to Bobby when he comes home tonight then or you'll definitely be buying a new one."

"Bobby broke a shitload more in this house than I ever did," Angel replied. "So that's a stupid argument. Plus it takes two to play you know. So it's not like I broke it by myself."

"Yeah, but the difference is I have the brains to keep the puck on the floor, dickhead."

"More like you could never get the fucking puck away from me."

Jack listened to them bicker in slight amusement as he looked out the window. He could see the neighbor's house, and would have been able to see right through into their window if their shades weren't drawn. He also studied outside his own window to see what it was like to get out.

It looked like a long way down, and there were no trees or anything by it. He wondered if there was a drainpipe or anything…

It was really important to find a way out. Just in case. Being trapped was the worst. Besides, he was already considering a bit of exploring later that night, and that involved planning.

"Is he coming tonight?" Angel asked.

"Who?" Jerry replied.

"Bobby, you moron. Who do you think?"

Jerry rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. And I dunno. You know Bobby."

"So what do you think? He's really quiet," Angel whispered to Jeremiah, eyeing Jack curiously. Jack was still looking out the window. "I don't know if he's just quiet or if he's stupid."

Jeremiah punched him in the arm. "And he's right here listening, so shut up."

"Just sayin'…' Angel objected.

"And I'm just sayin'…" Jeremiah replied. "Shut up." He shook his head. "Yo, Jack," Jeremiah persisted. He tugged Jack's arm and frowned as the kid recoiled from him.

"Don't," Jack said quietly. His eyes were narrowed, but he tried to shake it off. Typically when someone grabbed him for any reason it was to hurt him, and he'd been caught off guard. Already he was off to a bad start, he realized, and he reminded himself to focus. "Sorry, I zoned out for a second. What?"

Jeremiah ignored the brief apprehension but made sure to keep his hands to himself anyway, earnestly wondering where this one had come from. Evelyn Mercer always found the complicated sons of bitches to take in, that was for sure… "I was just going to say we should head back downstairs. Ma's going to want to fuss over you more, I'm sure."

Jack just nodded, finally keeping himself from daydreaming. "What do you… I mean, how many people live here?"

"Right now it's us, ma, and Bobby's been coming in and out recently."

"Bobby's supposed to be around tonight," Angel cut in.

"And now you of course," Jeremiah continued. "It's nice, actually. I know it's weird and new for you, I'm sure, but you've just gotta realize that all of us kinda are coming from the same shit, you know? And ma's not going to be like anyone you've dealt with before, so—"

"Is she mean?" Jack asked with a frown.

Angel laughed at him. "Yeah, she's a real monster. You better watch yourself."

Jeremiah turned to punch Angel in the arm again. "Fuck off, Angel. It's not funny. No, Jack, she's not at all."

"What, Jer?" Angel scowled, rubbing his arm. "It was a stupid question."

Jack worked his jaw. He had no idea what to think now. Downstairs he knew Evelyn and Anthony were talking about him. He knew that it consisted of all kinds of warnings and preparation. Some lies and reassurances. He wondered if Anthony would be back again soon, with that look in his eye again. That 'you fucked it up' look. He listened to the two boys argue for a moment and then asked, "Are you brothers?"

"Of course we're brothers. You mean blood brothers? Nah, but it doesn't matter. In this house, everybody's family. We got each other's backs, and you just play by the rules, you know?"

Jack just nodded, far from thrilled. He really had no idea what that meant. They were here for a reason too, and he didn't know what those reasons were. These two seemed well adjusted but he was used to the existing sibling bullshit stories. The first day meant make the new kid feel welcome. He wasn't going to just fall for their kindness just yet. He'd learned. Trust isn't an instantaneous privilege. It's too often taken advantage of and you need to be careful. It will only make it less shocking later when they turn their backs.

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"Was your room okay?"

Anthony was gone, and Jack was here now in this foreign home, sitting at the dining room table with his new guardian. It was a warm home that smelled like home made dinner cooking and potpourri, but it was a mysterious and unknown home nonetheless. And there was no way he could stop himself from fidgeting and looking around while it was so new. Evelyn had her full attention on him which also made him fairly uneasy.

Evelyn continued talking. "And please, just let me know if there's anything you need in there. Jerry and Angel helped me out a lot, but you know it's so easy to overlook the simple things. Sometimes it gets cool at night so remember we have plenty of extra blankets and clothes." Evelyn paused, watching the boy's wandering eyes. "Jack, look at me. Jack."

Jack heard her clearly and hesitated for a moment before turning his head to look directly at her. She did look like a nice old grandmother, and was probably the oldest of the people he'd lived with. Her eyes were kind, with creases at the corners, especially when she smiled. He felt sucked into her kind gaze when she looked at him, but was afraid he was being tricked. She looked so genuine, but…

"What's the matter, Jack?"

He opened his mouth to speak, almost wanting to pour out his worries, and then stopped himself, swallowing back the words. "I… Nothing. Thanks for letting me stay here and all, your house is really nice… And Angel and Jeremiah were really nice."

"I'm not just letting you stay here," Evelyn replied. "This is your home now too, Jack."

He wasn't sure what the expected response was to that so he remained silent.

"Jack, I know bad things happened to you before you came to me," she continued.

His heart began to beat a little faster again, and his ears picked up the sound of the TV inside. He shifted his eyes to the table, studying the light colored wood. Evelyn's voice was warm and smooth, but it still made him nervous for some reason. He tried not to let it bother him, but feeling the anxiety, gripped one hand in the other on his lap.

"Jack, look at me," she persisted. When his eyes finally met hers again she gave him a stern look. "You're safe here. Do you understand me? No one will hurt you here, and no one will expect anymore from you than you can give. It's very important to me that you understand that. Okay, Jack?" She paused. "Answer me."

He hated this directness. He felt very uncomfortable.

"Okay." His response came out a little faltered.

"Good." She smiled at him. "Now, Angel and Jerry were going to head to the high school a few blocks away to go play some basketball. Do you want to go with them?"

"Yeah, I'll go." Staying at this house alone with this woman was a little bizarre. Jack appreciated that she was trying to be friendly, but at the same time he was yearning for some space. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. There was only so much of this intentness that he could take. He didn't want to admit that he'd rather be ignored, but he just wasn't used to this.

"Ma, can we go yet?" Angel yelled from inside, over the TV.

Evelyn laughed. "It's as though they can read my mind, isn't it?" She pushed her chair back and gestured for Jack to follow. Jack complied and soon was standing behind Evelyn as she reminded the boys of her rules. No fights, no detours, be back by dinner, etcetera.

Angel was impatient. "Yeah, yeah, ma. We know the spiel. Now how do you expect us to show Jack the neighborhood if we never get out of the house?"

Soon Jack found himself walking at a quick pace down the street, following these two black boys that he had only met today and now would be living with under the same roof. At first they asked him a few questions about Evelyn's fussing, but soon their conversation drifted.

Angel and Jeremiah chatted together, mentioning names of people they thought they'd see at the park and schoolyard, while Jack followed behind them, trying to read street names and figure out which direction they were walking in. These boys were taller and had longer legs than he did, and he felt like he was putting in a lot of effort to keep up the same pace. He wondered how far away the school actually was. He also wondered why neither Jeremiah nor Angel had a basketball.

Within ten minutes they were at the school, and Jack's eyes focused on the basketball courts that they were walking towards. There was already a game taking place with a few kids watching from the sidelines. Most of the kids were black and older than he was. He already knew he wasn't going to play, but if there was any doubt in his mind, he was now positive.

"Jason is here," Jeremiah said with a laugh. "See, Angel? Told you."

Jack didn't know what that meant and stayed silent. He'd been silent most of the walk over. Even if he'd wanted to make an effort, there hadn't been much of an opportunity.

They were getting closer to the courts and he could see how rough the game actually was. Typical street rules applied as opposed to regular basketball rules. He watched Angel jog over to a group of guys and greet them with slaps on the back and handshakes. Jack looked at Jeremiah questionably, almost hoping that this at least somewhat familiar face wouldn't run off too.

"I'm gonna see if I can play too," Jeremiah said. "You want to just hang out and watch?"

"Okay. Sure."

"That door's usually unlocked," he pointed to the building, "if you need a bathroom or anything, alright? We only have like a half hour before we have to get back so just hang around here."

And then Jeremiah walked away too. The same group that had greeted Angel greeted Jeremiah, and Jack look up to see that Angel was already convincing someone to get out so he could get some time on the court. Jack didn't know whether to take it as an insult or a favor that they hadn't brought him over to be introduced to anybody.

Jack felt awkward standing there, one of the only white kids around and certainly the youngest one in sight. He looked at the school. Might as well look around.

The door was unlocked like Jeremiah predicted. Jack looked back and realized neither Jeremiah nor Angel was really paying attention to where he was going. Angel was in the game already and busy guarding this larger guy with an afro and a Bulls jersey. Jeremiah was leaning against a light post and talking, pretty seriously, to another guy around his age.

At first glance the hallway was empty, lined with lockers with a random piece or trash or paper on the floor. It looked like your average school and he started walking down the hall, still able to hear the sound of the basketball game outside. He walked past a water fountain and the girls' bathroom. He wondered if this was where Angel and Jeremiah went to school.

There were some administrative offices on the left and a cafeteria to the right. The wall had a huge mural on it, consisting of a lot of Detroit scenes and obviously created by high school art students. He stared at it critically for a minute before he continued down the hall. He kind of had to go to the bathroom so he figured that would be his goal: find the restroom.

He started to daydream again, about his new house and his new 'brothers'. He wasn't sure what to think. He still had that terrible feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn't sure how to make it go away. He wanted to give this place a shot, but wasn't really sure if it was worth it.

On his way he passed a room labeled the band room and immediately his hand went to the doorknob, testing it. Locked. He frowned for a moment before trying again. If there was one thing that had him interested it was musical instruments. That sounded like the kind of room that would keep him occupied for hours.

But it was locked.

Finally he found the bathroom, after a few other distractions along the way. Without thinking of much, he pushed open the door and was about to just walk inside when a group of three guys inside made him stop dead in his tracks. Especially when one of them reeled around and lifted a gun out from under his jacket.

Jack was frozen. He watched one of them, he looked Puerto Rican, hide a small bag in his pocket and swallowed. Run, he told himself.

"For fuck's sake, you asshole, it's just a little kid," a black teenager with a baseball kid snapped, hitting the other, white with shaggy brown hair, on the shoulder. "Put your fucking gun away. Are you an idiot?"

The gun lowered slowly. "Well, kid?" the guy asked. "What the fuck do you think you're staring at? Get out of here."

That was all it took. Jack turned around and started to run back down the hall the way he came. The sound of his feet echoed down the hall and in half the time it took to find the bathroom he found himself back outside, panting and scared to death. This was a different fear. That certainly replaced his anxiety about the house….

He located Jeremiah and Angel as he walked, slower now, towards some benches where he could just sit by himself and not worry. It felt bizarre that he actually found himself searching out these two almost strangers, but what else could he do? He didn't know what finding them would actually do in a bad situation. He wouldn't stick up for somebody he'd just met either.

Sitting on a hard bench, it was the longest twenty minutes until the boys were ready to leave. Jack had kept his eyes locked on the school, just waiting for those three to come out and see him. It was an honest mistake and although he could make assumptions about what they were doing, he really didn't know for sure and hadn't seen enough to make factual judgments. That wasn't enough to kill him for it. Right?

This day had been stressful enough. Jack felt uneasy and anxious, about his new home and about this solitary seat on a bench at a schoolyard that he knew nothing about. When they asked if he was ready to go "home", he found himself nodding and getting up pretty quickly.

"You okay?" Angel asked, wiping sweat off his brow with his t-shirt. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"I'm alright," Jack answered. "Just…" He didn't know how much to say. "Just ran into some kind of weird people inside."

"Did someone give you a hard time?" Jeremiah asked, glancing behind them as they started to walk away. "Who?"

"See, what kind of fun is it to have him just watch basketball?" Angel pushed Jeremiah playfully. "And leave him sitting alone?"

Jerry pushed him back. "Shut up, Angel. You're the one that wanted to play."

"Two people made the decision."

"Angel, that argument is getting real old, you know."

"Works though. 'Cause it's always true," Angel said with a laugh.

Jerry smirked. Angel was hard to argue with. "Whatever, Angel. Whatever. All I care about is dinner right now."

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More soon! 


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks again for all the reviews. I haven't been feeling that well so in one way that gives me more time to write, but at the same time my mind isn't always where it should be! There's so many great stories out there and more every day for Four Brothers so I'm really excited that this fandom is picking up. I know these couple of days are football packed for a lot of people so enjoythe R&R. _

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_**Chapter 4**_  
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That night Jack found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to his own breathing. The house was too quiet. He'd been lying here for a few hours now, trying to sleep, knowing he was exhausted, but unable to keep his eyes closed.

Dinner had been hard. The awkwardness was what got to him. Not awkward silence at least, because the other boys certainly had stories to tell, but just the fact that he was sitting there with this new family and really had no clue what to think. The whole time he just craved a cigarette, and while having a home cooked meal was a rare treat, he still couldn't help but zone out and barely taste the food.

Before going to bed, he'd watched TV with Jeremiah, as Angel left to go hang out with some girl down the street whose name Jack didn't catch. Jeremiah was nice, but Jack was more thankful he hadn't had to talk to him, since they'd watched a movie.

It was hopeless. He didn't belong in this kind of place. The bed was nice, the room was warm, and he didn't feel scared about someone coming in for whatever reason in the middle of the night. He hadn't even locked his door. But at the same time, it was still weird and new and a little unnerving. Sleeping just was out of the question.

He wasn't even sure why, but he didn't like it. They were nice but this was not… not what he pictured for himself. Sure, he was safe here, or so said the old lady. What did she know? What did he know about her? What did she know about him?

He would think about where he'd been, where he'd lived, but a minute into a memory he'd stop himself. No one wanted to go there. The bruises on his arm and back were too recent to forget, not that he ever forgot anything at all. Not all the bruises were physical, and those were the ones that mattered the most. Memory like an elephant, Anthony would tease him, when he brought up certain old details or an incongruence. Not that it got him anywhere.

He took his fifth trip to the bathroom, tiptoeing, to get a drink of water and just get some nervous energy out. He felt afraid to touch things, afraid to make anything appear like he'd lived there. He hadn't touched his bag even; he'd left it unpacked on the floor, ready to move out if need be. He had places to go. He had a few friends in town. Well, not in this exact part of town, but certainly not far. And a few friends at the group home. Sometimes he actually wished he was back there, just for camaraderie's sake even.

He was restless. Like always in these new situations, he longed for one thing: his freedom. The assurance that he still had that.

One of the things that always got him in trouble no matter where he was staying was his propensity for wandering. Don't disappear for days, Anthony had asked him. The memories of the scoldings, spankings, and beatings that his wandering had earned him remained in the back of his mind that night as he stared out the window at the clear sky. He couldn't just lay here in bed. He couldn't.

He thought of destinations. There were a lot. He thought about the school, and the band room, and started to think more about it. That was just a simple doorknob. He'd used a paperclip over a dozen times to unlock one of those. Imagine inside that room.

He looked at his bag in the corner and then at the rest of the bedroom. He thought about it and then options. This house was easy to leave. This family was unassuming. It was new. He knew the way to the school. He'd seen several bus stops on the way too. He'd kept track of them. What was so great about this particular house? He imagined leaving Detroit altogether. Now that was something.

He made his decision. He didn't need this grandmother figure or her two foster sons in his life. He just wanted this own life for once.

In a flash of boldness, Jack picked up his bag and quietly slipped out of his room again. Down the stairs he crept carefully. He didn't know these stairs yet. He didn't know where they creaked or where they would give him away so he had to be particularly careful. When he reached the bottom of the steps he let out a sigh of relief. The house had not given him away. He didn't know whether the old lady was a deep sleeper or not. He wasn't willing to risk anything.

He felt independent and empowered. He felt like he controlled something, and he liked that feeling.

He placed his bag at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the front door for a moment, at his freedom, before rationalizing things, remembering old mistakes and how he could prevent things. Money was the next issue. He didn't even have a penny in his pocket and that certainly would not earn him a bus ride.

Adults usually left money everywhere, in drawers, or on countertops. The old lady wouldn't notice if he borrowed a few dollars or so. She seemed pretty charitable as it was and what difference would a few coins make?

Jack sent one nervous glance up the stairs to make sure it was still quiet up there. Then he left his bag to head into the living room to scrounge around a little bit in the dark. All he needed was at least a dollar and then he'd feel more comfortable before leaving. That would at least get him on a bus. He could find money elsewhere if he needed.

The first few drawers made him begin to think that his search was futile. He was searching through one more cabinet in the living room when he noticed a purse sitting on the table. Jackpot. Without thinking, Jack was immediately drawn to it, finding a wallet and pulling out several dollars.

Perfect, he thought. He wasn't going to be greedy, but she had plenty in there.

He'd just stuffed the wallet back into the purse and was about to shove the money into his pocket when he found himself lifted off the ground and spun around to face an amused looking young man, probably in his early twenties, who was now effortlessly holding Jack up with his muscular arms in front of him like a specimen to examine.

"What do we have here?"

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_more coming soon!_


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you so much for the reviews! You guys are really making me so happy. Sorry for the cliff hanger in the last one but it would have been really long if I kept it going. This segment also was really long so I kind of broke it up. I also kind of wrote it really fast so I wanted to be able to reread the rest before posting to make sure it wasn't too much stream of consciousness instead of real writing! I hope you enjoy this part, there's a lot that still needs to develop, but I'm glad you're enjoying this with me.

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"What do we have here…" he began with a smirk. 

Jack felt his heart stop cold in his chest. His moment of independence and freedom was shattered as a million thoughts went racing through his head. This was it, he was really going to get it this time. He might even be dead, probably torn in half. By this monster that had been hiding in the dark. It terrified him that he hadn't known someone else was downstairs.

He opened his mouth to scream.

Sensing the impending scream when the kid's face transformed into an expression of terror and his mouth began to open, the young man dropped the boy to his feet and clamped a hand over his mouth.

"You scream and wake anybody up at this hour, then I'll really give you something to scream about, do you understand me?" he said earnestly. "No way you're waking up the house."

With wide eyes now filling with involuntary tears, Jack nodded, shaking.

The man shook his head in exasperation, removing his hand from the boy's lips slowly, but ready to grab him again if he made noise. "Sh…"

"Are you a burglar?" Jack whispered fearfully. He eyed him nervously, taking in the dirty paint stained t-shirt and worn jeans, and not getting enough details to make any conclusions. This guy looked like a boxer, or something.

The man raised his eyebrows, dropping his hands to his side. "Me a burglar?" He smirked. "Not in this house. Besides, it looks like you beat me to it, huh, you little thief?" With that the man snatched the money from Jack and slapped his hand disapprovingly. "What in God's name do you think you're doing, anyway?"

Jack backed away slowly and didn't answer. Noticing the soon to be retreat, the man grasped his wrist.

"Hey," he objected. "We are far from done." The kid was pulling his wrist away, still obviously scared, with tears beginning to fall. The man looked at him, purely exasperated, and persisted, "Just—"

"Please… I'm sorry," Jack pleaded. He tried hard to pull his wrist from the man's grasp but it was a tight hold and this guy was much stronger than he was. He felt himself being pulled back and began to panic, wincing involuntarily. He wished he could disappear, and his stomach felt like it was in knots. "Please, please, please. I'm sorry. Please don't. I'm really, really sorry."

"Jesus," came more exasperation. "Listen to me, kid. I'm not going to hurt you. And I actually mean it, so do not look at me like that. I hate that look on your face right now." The young man shook his head. "You're Jack, aren't you? Ma's going to skin me alive for this, for scaring you. Then again she oughta thank me for catching you, right?" He began to ease his hold a little. "Calm down, for fuck's sake."

With a quick, daring pull, the kid loosened from the stranger's grip and gained a few inches to back away.

"Just hold on, will you?" Abruptly, he was roughly pulled forward by the man grabbing onto his forearm. Immediately Jack hissed in pain, and like he was burned the man let go in surprise.

"What?" he asked, and took the kid's arm again, but this time to push back the sleeve of his shirt to find the cause of the pain. He knew it wasn't because of him. He saw the dark bruises and cursed, immediately feeling terrible. "Fuck. Sorry." He pulled the sleeve back down. He looked at the boy and sighed. "Look, before you run away, let's at least do introductions. I'm Bobby. Did ma tell you about me at all? I told her I'd come home tonight."

Jack just stared down at the floor, cradling his arm to his chest.

"Fuck, I know you can talk. And I didn't mean to scare you. That's what happens when you sneak around houses in the middle of the night, you know. Why the hell are you stealing from ma anyway?"

Jack was afraid to run now, because he knew undoubtedly that this person would grab him again, and although he hadn't really hurt him yet, he didn't know what would happen if he tried again, and that was more than he wanted to risk. He could only imagine what this guy was capable of.

"At this time of night too?" Bobby persisted. "Shouldn't you be in bed, or has ma just become even more liberal than she or I ever predicted?"

Jack's silence didn't stop Bobby from talking. He knew this kind of kid. He knew this kind of kid damn well. Evelyn's quest was to transform all of the hopeless cases of Detroit. He supposed he could be considered 'transformed' himself, although there were a lot of people that might disagree. Better off at least, thanks to Evelyn. He could guess Jack's background pretty easily. "You've met Jerry and Angel already, I'm sure. And I bet they didn't scare you shitless. So I'm not going to be your favorite then. What a fuckin' shame. Anyway, I want a beer, do you want anything?"

Jack continued to stare at the floor.

"Okay then…"

A little confused, Jack watched him start to walk away towards the kitchen. He glanced at the purse again and then at the door, thinking of his master plan. His bag was still lying by the stairs, waiting for him. He felt his heart still pounding in his chest. The anxiety was building in his gut.

Bobby eyed him carefully and saw immediately where his eyes traveled. He snapped his fingers at him. "Come here. Don't even think about it, you idiot."

Jack glared at him and sniffled. He was mad at himself for nearly crying when this man had barely touched him. He'd toughed out much worse without tears and here he was being a baby again. He wanted to run, leave this place, and not look back. Especially now, with this unexpected and stressful confrontation.

But there was little choice.

"Come on," Bobby persisted tiredly, gesturing him forward.

Jack timidly began to walk towards him.

Bobby shook his head to himself and went into the kitchen, straight for the refrigerator. His patience was low. He didn't have time for this, and wasn't even sure what to do at this time of night. In actuality the kid was lucky he hadn't popped him one. Who knew who it was at this time of night sneaking around? But he was glad he hadn't. Ma really would've killed him then.

He'd gotten home much later than he'd expected, but regardless, insomnia left him awake, simply watching TV and thinking about the morning when he would show that he was back in the neighborhood again.

Of course he would hear someone else downstairs, especially someone who was going through ma's things, and without much grace. At first he was concerned it was an intruder, and in hindsight he was thankful he hadn't pulled out the gun that was at his waist, because this kid probably would have been screaming for sure.

His mother knew he was coming; she had warned him about Jack. Her voice had held that excitement and expectation. Expectation that he would help out again with her new project. Kids were always a project to her. Bobby was thankful for his own home with Evelyn, and also amazed she still had the energy and patience for all of this.

He wasn't making promises this time to be around. He would try, but he was trying to have his own life too. This kid seemed like a handful. He had that look in his eye. Bobby knew he'd been the same way, so in a way he owed Evelyn, but times were different.

He looked at the kid while he twisted off the cap of a beer with his sleeve. He wasn't sure how old he was and hadn't been fully briefed on his background, or at least whatever information they had. He could use his imagination for the most part, as Evelyn always wound up with the saddest of the litter, and he was sure this kid had been through a hell of a lot despite how young he looked.

"Stop crying," Bobby said stiffly as he continued to look at him. "Mercers don't cry. And we don't need no fairies under this roof either."

Jack pressed his lips together, watching Bobby finish half of his beer. He thought again about his bag at the bottom of the stairs and how close he'd been to leaving this house. Right now he kind of wanted to leave even more than before. But he now also felt more trapped than before.

Bobby sighed and started to walk towards him. "Let's watch TV and then go to bed, kid. It's too late for this shit." He didn't miss how Jack shrank from him he got closer, as though he was trying to disappear into the wall. He hated having someone scared of him for no reason. Although he had pretty much given the kid a reason just grabbing him before.

Bobby stopped in front of him and looked at him carefully. "It is Jack, right? Or did I mess up your name too?"

Jack swallowed. Bobby was simply staring at him, waiting for an answer. "Yeah, it's Jack…" he admitted quietly.

"Okay, Jack, then let's watch TV and go to bed. Alright? I don't know about you, but today was a long day. Okay?"

"Okay," Jack replied uncertainly.

"Okay then. See how much easier things are when you actually answer when somebody's talking to you…" Bobby mumbled, moving past the doorway and back towards the family room.

As Jack hesitated and looked towards the other room, which to him signified freedom, Bobby turned and smiled. "Like I said, if you want to try me, go ahead, little man. But I suggest you give it a rest." Then he continued inside.

Half of Jack wanted to just leave. The other half of him was too fearful. This person could evidently predict fairly accurately what he was planning, and he knew he wouldn't make it very far if he did head to the door. Angering people was never what he really intended, and this guy hadn't hit him yet, and so he forced himself to take a deep breath and follow Bobby.

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more soon! 


	6. Chapter 6

Slouched on the couch with his legs stretched out and heels digging into the carpet, Bobby laughed at the show on TV. He didn't look at the kid when he finally entered the room; he instead sipped his beer and held the controller in his lap lazily.

He'd known the kid would come in and sit down. He'd had no doubt in his mind. He knew the kid felt threatened by him, and although he wasn't proud of that, he also didn't mind the advantage it gave him to know he would listen. He didn't feel like running after him out the door, which he'd feel obligated to if the kid chose that path.

Jack sat down lightly on the couch, at the opposite end from Bobby, and glanced at the TV briefly. He kept Bobby in his view at all times, still unsure of his intentions and not willing to let his guard down. Bobby wasn't paying much attention to him, laughing out loud at the television at some stand up comic and drinking his beer. Was this the same guy Angel and Jeremiah had mentioned earlier?

A commercial came on and Bobby took a deep, tired breath, leaning his head back into the couch and turning it to view Jack. The kid was still sitting at the edge of the seat and quickly averted his eyes when Bobby met his gaze. He sat stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap, suddenly nervous at the attention a commercial break brought him. Evelyn had put this kind of direct attention on him earlier, and that had made him nervous too.

"What'd you need the money for, Jack?" Bobby asked.

Jack pressed his lips together, pausing before answering. Was this a test? He was having a hard time reading Bobby's tone, and he wasn't sure whether there was a right or wrong answer. Normally he would simply lie, but it was hard to when the man had caught him red handed. He couldn't incriminate himself more, but he hadn't been punished yet.

There was no sense in not responding so slowly he turned his head to look at Bobby again. "The bus."

"The bus?" Bobby echoed. "So your plan was to find some money, steal it, and run off? That sounds easy enough."

Jack shrugged. This Bobby person was kind of hard to answer.

"You just get here today, Jack?" Bobby asked.

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"Who was so terrible to you that you're leaving already? Are Jerry and Angel that horrible?"

Jack shook his head. "I…" There were a lot of answers to that. Jerry and Angel had nothing to do with it really. But he'd thought of a lot of things. The band room. The bus. The lack of sleep. The chance to just be on his own. The chance to get out of Detroit, the shittiest city in the world. "I don't know."

"You realize you should thank me for running into you before you tried to find a bus," Bobby persisted. "Because there ain't a bus for miles around here that runs this time of night, and I'm not sure a scrawny white boy like you would make it too far around here by yourself either. So I can tell you're a thinker. What do you say?"

Jack knew he wasn't a thinker. Anthony had told him that a dozen times. Would he really be where he was if he thought things out? But he also wouldn't be here if he couldn't take care of himself. "I could make it."

"Oh, I'm sure you could, kiddo. How old are you?"

Jack felt belittled. "Eleven," he admitted.

"Yeah, you'd make it real fucking far," Bobby muttered.

"Are you going to tell the old lady?' Jack asked. "'Cause if you do, then—"

"Then what? And old lady?" Bobby echoed. "Don't call ma an old lady, kid. She wouldn't like that one bit. Am I gonna tell her what? That you've been scrounging through her house and stealing from her purse, you moron? Well it was a pretty stupid plan anyway."

"There's no reason to tell her. I didn't take anything." Not technically. Jack started to feel nervous.

"Are you really scared of her?" Bobby wasn't sure how someone could be scared of ma. Even this kid who looked like he was scared of his own reflection. This kid had met the woman, even if it was for just one day, and so he couldn't really be scared of her.

"She'll hurt me. If she finds out I stole from her," Jack persisted. "Please don't tell her."

"Now what would make you think she'd hurt you?"

"Because." Jack looked at him incredulously. "Why wouldn't she?"

"Because," Bobby answered, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm the only one that woulda been that angry about you stealing from ma, and if I'd wanted to, I woulda already whipped you when I found you. And I didn't, did I?"

Jack shook his head. He hadn't.

"Damn right. I've been a fucking gentleman. So then? Calm the fuck down."

"Just don't tell her then…?" Jack whispered.

"Kid, even if I told her nothing would come of it." Bobby should his head. "I really don't think you've figured out ma yet. I know where you're coming from, but let me give you the summarized version of this house: there is nowhere you should rather be. So don't go and fuck it up by getting on a neighborhood bus and making them send your sorry ass back to wherever you came from."

Jack just chewed on his thumbnail. Anthony came to mind. What if they told her he was stealing things and then she told Anthony too? What would Anthony do? The old lady might let him know and then what would happen? Had he already fucked it up within twenty four hours? It wasn't just leaving this place, which he knew nothing of, but them taking him back, trying to put him somewhere else. Or just giving up on him… Would they put him some place else again?

"Speaking of where you came from, who hurt your arm?" Bobby asked. He saw the kid shrug. "They hurt you anywhere else?" Another shrug. Bobby grew exasperated but reminded himself that there was little to any chance of getting that kind of information out of the kid anyway, especially tonight, so the questions would probably just make him nervous. "Did you win at least?"

"Win what?" Jack asked. He was confused. There was something to win?

"The fight," Bobby replied. Then he shook his head. "Sorry, that was a joke. A really not funny joke, the reason I never tell any." He was making an effort, but in addition to be exhausted, he felt like he was still talking to himself.

There was the sound of a door opening upstairs, and Jack jumped to his feet. Somebody else was up? Somebody would check to see if he was in his room, and somebody would come downstairs, and this Bobby person would tell them what he did… He probably left the bedroom door open. Had he left it open? Would they notice?

"You are a high strung son of a bitch, aren't you?" Bobby said in amusement, watching Jack's expression. "Sit your ass down. Someone gets up to use the bathroom and you have a coronary. Jesus Christ. Ma has her work cut out for her this time."

Jack turned to look at him, and then sensed his frustration and immediately sat back down again and averted his eyes.

"How old are you again?" Bobby asked.

"Eleven."

Bobby just nodded and didn't respond. The show had come back on TV, and his attention returned to the screen. It was getting late. He let out a deep yawn after a few minutes and looked over at the kid. Jack was watching TV at least, with a slightly comatose look on his face that Bobby recognized as exhaustion. At least he didn't look as jumpy.

The show ended within fifteen minutes, and Bobby had finished his beer in half that time. He wanted another one, but between the effort it took to get up from the couch and the consideration of leaving this kid sitting by himself for five minutes and where he might wander to…

"Ready for bed?" Bobby asked aloud. "You tired?"

"Yeah," came the response. "Okay."

"Okay then." Bobby pushed himself up off the couch and stretched his arms over his head. "Come on."

Jack got up and watched Bobby turn off the TV. He followed him out of the family room and towards the stairs. Bobby sensed him following and didn't look at him until he reached the bag lying at the bottom of the stairs. "What's this?"

"Mine." Jack moved to pick it up.

"You really woulda hurt ma's feelings, that's for sure," Bobby said with a laugh, watching him. "Come on. Get upstairs."

Jack started up the stairs, quietly. Almost as quietly as he came down. He didn't want to wake up anybody else upstairs.

Bobby was more amused by this kid than anything else. In a way he was reminded of himself, and on the other hand he just kept hearing in the back of his mind that he didn't have time for this and couldn't believe ma had another kid. He put up with the slow, delicate steps up the stairs for about five seconds.

"Alright, there is no tiptoeing in this house, you fairy," Bobby muttered in exasperation. "Just walk up the stairs." He himself was walking up behind Jack with heavy footsteps. His voice was quiet, but he was not going to make a special effort going up the stairs. "Come on."

Bobby walked up the stairs quickly, taking two at a time with each stride and passing Jack with a slight brush on the arm.

Jack wasn't sure what to make of this person, whom Evelyn, Angel, and Jeremiah had all mentioned earlier. Who was he? Did he live here? He was confused whether or not to be scared of him and what his intentions were. There wasn't much room for making up his own mind though, and Jack followed him to the bedroom. Your room, Jack reminded himself. He dropped his bag back in the corner.

"Do you live here?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," Bobby replied. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway. "I'm an on and off resident. I might be around more often now."

"Okay," Jack answered.

"Look, let's make a deal, okay?" Bobby began as he walked over to look out the window. It was so dark that he couldn't have been able to see much. He turned and looked at Jack, who was giving him a wary look. "The deal is you give it a week."

"Give what a week?" Jack asked.

"This place."

"Oh." What did that mean? He didn't really have the choice there did he? "But what if the old lady—I mean, what if Ms. Mercer—what if she changes her mind before the week?"

"You planning on giving her a reason to?" Bobby asked.

Jack shook his head. But he'd never planned to give people reasons before. And it was true that he would probably last a week even if he did. Most people would at least try using a belt on him before completely giving up.

"I can't think of anything you could do anyway," Bobby said. "Anything that I probably didn't do already anyway." He smirked. "Anyway, you'll give it a week?"

"A week?"

"Just put up with it for one week and then decide if you want to try to reenact tonight. In which case I'll give you a couple dollars and a head start, but no promises. How's that sound?"

"What if I don't?"

"Well, then I don't exactly give you a head start."

Jack shrugged. If agreeing would end the conversation, then he would certainly agree. "Sure." Besides, if he broke the agreement, and made it, it wasn't like he would see any of these people again. What kind of repercussions could there be? "One week isn't a big deal."

"Okay, good. After a week you'll be on my side anyway. Now, I am off to sleep. Don't tell ma I scared you."

"Good night…" Jack replied.

Bobby disappeared and Jack walked over to shut the door quietly. He turned the lock and then walked back over to sit on the bed. He still felt the uneasiness in his stomach from when he'd run into Bobby and made a great first impression. He was more tired than anything else, and this outweighed his apprehension.

Might as well try sleep for one night.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks everyone for your really kind comments and reviews. Again, you make my day! You're all so kind and I'm excited that people like this story since this is new for me. I'm having a lot of fun with it, and I wish I could thank you all individually. I'm sorry I didn't include any comments in the last chapter—I was really rushed to get it up and didn't have time to write comments and get the update up, but wanted to give you all something to read! Here is chapter 7, enjoy!_

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**Chapter 7**

"Bobby Mercer, you finally show up."

Bobby looked up from the stove at Evelyn and grinned. It was always relieving to see her even if nothing was wrong. He smiled at her yellow blouse and jeans as she was like sunshine that morning. The best woman in the world.

"Hey ma." He glanced at his scrambled eggs one last time before putting down the spatula and walking over to give her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How are you?"

"I was hoping I'd see you last night," she said as she squeezed him tightly. "Let me look at you." She took a step back and kept her hands on his forearms. "Show me all your teeth."

Bobby grinned at her and laughed. "Ma, hockey's not going to kill me. Besides if I lose teeth, I'll look tougher. Especially a front one." He tapped at one of his front teeth emphatically.

"You better not loose any teeth, Bobby," she replied, letting go of him. "You know how much you hate the dentist."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm in perfect shape, ma. Not a scratch. These league punks… I can take any one of them."

She shook her head. "That's what I'm afraid of, Bobby."

"If people don't want a physical sport, then those pixies can go play ballet or something."

"Ballet's not a sport."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, ma. You get my point." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's been three weeks or something. You act like it's been a year. I'm the same as you last saw me."

"No trouble?"

"Now what kinda trouble could I get myself into in three weeks?" He turned back to his eggs and picked up the spatula, moving them around in the frying pan to make sure they weren't burning. "You underestimate me, ma."

"Oh, is that so, Bobby? I know a parole officer that might think differently." She smiled at him and was met with his impish grin.

"Oh is that so? Well, sorry to disappoint. No trouble that I'm aware of anyway. Living trouble that is."

"Bobby Mercer."

He laughed. "Ma, I'd let you know if I'd happened to kill anybody, I promise."

She just shook her head. "You'll be the death of me, Bobby."

"Aw, don't say that, ma. You want any eggs?" he asked. "I'm kind of making enough for a small army. Not that I won't eat all of them otherwise. By the way we're out of eggs now."

"A very small army considering the way you and your brothers eat. And don't worry about it, I'm going to the store later anyway. Angel and Jerry have devoured everything. Even the fat free stuff."

"Why aren't they up? Don't they want to see their big brother?" Bobby replied. "Didn't you tell them I was gonna be back in town?"

"Yes, dear, but you also said you'd be back in town last night. You don't expect them to actually wake up early. That's unheard of."

"It's not early. I shouldn't even be up considering the sleep I got. And I was in last night," he retorted. "Technically anyway. You want any eggs?"

"No thanks, I'm fine," she replied. "Thank you though. I'm putting on some coffee too." She moved towards the counter to get the coffee pot. "What time did you get in last night?"

"Really late. I don't even want to tell you, because you'll be pissed that I was even on the road then. But I got a late start and was held up, so—"

"It's not like you're far away. You could have—"

"See there you go, ma," he laughed. "I know what I could've done, but I already did something else, right? And I'm here."

"That you are."

Bobby lowered the heat a little bit on the stove so that the eggs would cook slower. He had a feeling he would be waking people up to eat them before they got cold. In actuality, he would probably be eating all of them before any else came downstairs though, and he didn't mind that at all. He had a good appetite in the morning.

"So, what about you, ma? How's your new project?" he asked.

"Project?" Evelyn echoed. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "Bobby, are you calling Jack my new project?"

"That's what he is, right?" Bobby teased. "What, Angel and Jer not giving you enough trouble?"

"Speaking of Angel and Jerry," she replied, "you should explain to them the dangers of indoor hockey. I just can't seem to get it across."

"Ma, you know damn right I'm a strong supporter of indoor hockey," he objected.

She sighed. "Oh, Bobby, why do I even bother with you?"

He walked over to give her another kiss on the forehead. "Because you know I love you and all your crazy projects, ma."

She slapped his arm. "Bobby Mercer. If I hear you call him a project one more time…"

He returned to his eggs, rolling his eyes. "Oh, there's lots of things I could call somebody, ma. I'm sure project is the least of them."

"Please, Bobby. You haven't even met him yet. Let's leave the teasing for after he's settled in, alright?" she replied as she filled the coffee machine with water.

"I met him."

She frowned, turning to look at him. "You met Jack? How, Bobby?"

He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the stove, delighted to know something his mother didn't. "Well, you can thank me now or later, but your _project_ was planning to take a little late night walk, so to speak, and I just _happened _to run into him."

Bobby left out the fact that Jack had been looking to steal money from her, with his bag waiting by the door for a quick retreat. She didn't need to know that much, at least yet.

"Already," she said with a sigh. "I was afraid of that."

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

She smiled. "No, Bobby."

He rolled his eyes. "Only because you think it'll bother me. But it won't."

"Not thanking you will?" she laughed. "Well what do you think?" she asked, ignoring his frown as she replaced the filter of the coffee machine and plugged it in.

Bobby was the oldest of her sons, more mature now despite his constant teasing, and while his legal record continued to by speckled by the results of his eternal recklessness and impulsiveness, she trusted him immensely. Angel and Jerry trusted him immensely. She knew he considered himself the man of the house.

"What do I think? I think you should thank me," he answered.

She laughed again. "No, Bobby. Get over that. What do you think of Jack."

Bobby ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. He remembered his late night, which should have just involved a couple beers and sleep, and tried to make some conclusions about the kid he had frightened.

"I dunno, ma. He's young," he answered. "Skittish. It was really kind of a bizarre meeting, so I don't really know if had the best first impression. I think he'll keep you busy."

She nodded. "And you."

"Me? Ma…" He shook his head. "No. I'm—"

"Going to be around more," she reminded him. Bobby had already promised her this recently, and Jack was the perfect excuse to reinforce the promise.

"I know I said that," Bobby objected. "But I have…" He looked at his mother. It was really hard to argue with her. Especially when you'd promised. To be the cause of a look of disappointment on Evelyn Mercer's face was almost worse than a physical blow. And Bobby began to feel that guilt. "I didn't feel very patient last night, ma. I can't promise that—"

"What do you have going on that is going to change things, Bobby?" she asked. "It can't be the hockey that will keep you."

"I'm just busy, ma."

"With what? If you can't tell me, then we have something else to talk about, if that's the case."

"It's not anything in particular going on…" he persisted.

"Then?"

"I have no patience for kids right now. And I know that sounds selfish, but—"

"Bobby, you do. You have plenty of patience when you use your head. And you should use your head."

"You are impossible to argue with."

"I know. Don't burn your eggs, Bobby."

"I'm not," he answered, looking at them again to make sure. "It's slow."

"You want to wake up your brothers? And that includes your new one."

Bobby watched his mother spoon coffee grounds into the filter and sighed. "I will. Just tell me this. Where's Jack coming from?"

"He's a complicated one, Bobby. I'll give you that. But I'll talk to you in private later, because it's really not time now. Want to wake up the boys? I'll watch your eggs."

He nodded, trying not to roll his eyes. No use in arguing that they were actually having a private conversation and currently were the only two in the kitchen, a perfect time to talk. His mother had her own agenda for a reason and he wouldn't fight it. He was, however, curious about how complicated this kid was.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello to all the great readers and reviewers. You guys really make my day. Things are much busier for me now (I'm back at school and winter break is over) so I'm going to try to keep the updates coming fairly regularly, but they might be slightly slower. Writing is an awesome excuse not to do work though, so don't worry too much. When I saw all the great feedback, I had to post another chapter because I felt bad making you wait. I hope you enjoy it, take care!

* * *

_ **Chapter 8  
**

As Bobby walked up the stairs, he could hear that someone was in the shower. When he reached the landing, he saw Jerry's door ajar and assumed that it was him. He went to Angel's room first and knocked on the door.

"Angel, time to wake up." He knocked again when there was no reply, harder this time as a warning before he walked in. He entered and took in the messy room, strewn with mostly clothes, and the lump under the pile of twisted covers on the bed which he took to be his younger brother. "Yo. Wake up."

The lump didn't move so Bobby walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Angel, wake up and welcome your big cool brother back home."

Angel simply grunted.

Bobby pulled back the blankets to reveal his younger brother, clad in only boxers and immediately irritated by the cool air that replaced the warmth of his blankets.

"What the fuck, man?" Angel muttered, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly and squinting at the Bobby.

"This is your wakeup call."

"When did you get here?"

"Is that how you greet me?" Bobby tossed the blankets on the floor with a grin. "Huh? I got here late last night."

"Did you meet the new kid?"

"Yeah, I met the new kid," Bobby answered. "Kind of anyway."

"Ma's been talking him up like crazy." Angel rolled his eyes.

"What, you boys not enough for her?" Bobby teased. "She's getting bored?"

"Guess so."

"I mean, she must be. What, with you out all the time with hablo what's her face, and Jerry—"

"If by what's her face you mean Sof—"

"Como?"

"Bobby." Angel kicked him. "Get out of my room."

Bobby laughed. "That's no way to tell me how much you missed me."

"Bobby, I saw you like two weeks ago."

"Right here." Bobby patted his chest, right over where he believed his heart to be. "That hurts right here, Angel."

Angel smirked. "Bobby, everyone knows that you don't have a heart."

"Ouch, Angel. I forget you're not a morning person." Bobby laughed. "Anyway, get your ass out of bed." He started for the door. "Pickup game today, maybe?"

Angel yawned. "Maybe."

"Don't go back to bed."

"Weekends are for sleeping."

Bobby shook his head and left his brothers room. Angel was quite a character. Always ready for fast talking and womanizing. Bobby knew he could expect to see the vivacious, buxom girl from down the street again, with whom Angel seemed to enjoy messing around with recently.

He tried to remember where her family was from. Columbia, maybe? Regardless, she provided ample opportunity to tease Angel about his love life, and Bobby almost enjoyed his own spats with her over trivial things. Getting her heated was too easy, particularly as they got older.

Still hearing the shower running made Bobby thankful he'd gotten up early to take advantage of the hot water. Jerry was acting like he was at a hotel or something. Bobby walked over to the new project's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He turned the knob slowly and then noticed it was locked.

Feeling like that was pretty typical, Bobby simply shook his head. He wasn't going to try to unlock the door or anything. The kid would come out eventually. Bobby walked to the bathroom. Not knocking, he simply walked in, glancing at the fuzzy outline of his humming brother through the shower curtain before he swiftly flushed the toilet a couple times.

"Holy shit!" Jerry shrieked from the shower as he was undoubtedly hit by a few seconds of ice cold water. "What the fuck?"

"Hey, hey…" Bobby laughed, speaking loud enough to be heard over the running water. "Wash your mouth out while you're in there, Jerry!"

Jerry roughly pulled the shower curtain open just enough to stick his head out. "Bobby, if I wasn't buck naked right now, I would—"

"You would what?" Bobby asked, holding his hand dangerously close to flushing the toilet again.

Jerry stuck an arm out to point at him, eyebrows raised. "Don't. Don't you dare, man."

Bobby grinned. "Say, welcome back, Bobby."

"Get your cracker white grubby paw away from the fucking thing and let me shower," Jerry complained.

"Well, take a faster shower," Bobby answered. "You realize no matter how hard you scrub, that 'stid' is not disappearing, right, dude?"

Jerry shook his head but smirked at his brothers amusing reference to a non-existent STD. He made the smirk disappear quickly to show he was still serious. "Whatever, 'tard. I'll be out in a minute."

Bobby spared him another flush and shrugged. "As long as you know, man." He headed towards the door. "Leave your brother a little bit of hot water though, will you, Jerry?"

"There's plenty." Jerry disappeared behind the plastic curtain again. "And as much as you love to watch me shower, don't you have better things to do?"

"Didn't anybody miss me?" Bobby muttered as he walked out the door.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm going to try to be writing more very soon. I don't have class tomorrow so maybe that'll give me some time. If you have any suggestions or things that you want to see, let me know. I have the next several scenes planned out, at least in the sense of knowing certain things that I want to have happen, but I open to any criticism or suggestions. Thanks again for all the feedback, and for reading my story. I really appreciate it._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 9**

When Jack heard the knock on his door, he sat up abruptly in bed. He heard the doorknob turn back and forth, and then whoever it was stopped, likely because they realized it was locked. He waited for harder knocking or a demand that he opened the door, but there was none. He licked his lips nervously, still feeling confused as to how to interpret the actions of people in the house. The last time he'd locked a door like this, it had earned him several well placed slaps.

Light came in through his window and he frowned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He'd actually slept pretty well after he'd eventually fallen asleep, but being a light sleeper the knocking woke him up right away. At least there hadn't been any nightmares.

He got out of bed with a big sigh and sent a brief look at his bag in the corner, remembering his late night with a little embarrassment but more anxiety. The latter feeling seemed not only recurrent but simply constant. It always took a while to become 'adjusted' to a particular house and family, but it didn't make the beginning any easier.

He looked down at himself and realized he was still wearing the exact same thing as yesterday. In fact he'd even slept in jeans. Scratching his head, he sighed and moved to pick up his bag. Tossing it on his bed, he finally decided to finally unzip the bag. Might as well. It still didn't mean anything.

He threw on a t-shirt and then paused, looking down at his arms. The bruises were gross and really obvious on his pale white skin. They weren't fading at all. But then again it hadn't been very long.

Frowning, he found a ratty sweatshirt at the bottom on his bag and pulled that on over his t-shirt.

He needed to pee and brush his teeth. Evelyn had given him a new toothbrush and everything. He walked over to the door and unlocked it, but before he could reach the bathroom he already heard yelling from inside the bathroom. He paused and frowned, hearing two male voices amidst the sound of running water. To him, that seemed really weird.

Jack eyed the stairs and wondered who was up. He wondered if the intimidating man that he'd met the night before was up and they would have another awkward encounter. He told himself not to feel panicked about this house yet. Nothing had happened. No one had touched him. No one had even threatened to touch him. But after what he'd done last night he wasn't sure what to expect.

He heard laughing from the bathroom and turned to look at the door again, as though that would answer his questions. Instead he just found the plain door.

He decided to go downstairs. He walked lightly again down the stairs, Bobby's chastisement ringing in his ears for trying to be quiet, but still keen on habit, and made his way to the first floor. He heard music playing lightly and followed the sound to the kitchen, where he spied Evelyn at the table drinking a cup of coffee and looking at the newspaper.

He stood in the doorway for a moment before Evelyn looked up and then smiled. "Oh, Jack! I didn't hear you there. Come on in, sweetheart. Good morning."

"Good morning," he answered, not moving from the doorway.

She got up and he stepped back for a moment, but she just moved towards the stove and asked, "Did Bobby wake you? I took his eggs off the burner, but they're going to get cold…"

"No, I didn't see him. I just woke up."

"What is that boy doing? I told him…" she muttered to herself with a laugh. "Anyway, would you like some of these eggs before they go cold? Bobby made enough for an army."

Jack shook his head. He couldn't imagine just eating that man's food without him there, even if Evelyn gave him permission. He really didn't understand who was in charge here. "No, I'm fine."

"Well, we have plenty other things too. What do you like, cereal?"

"I…" he hesitated. What did he like? "I never really was much of a breakfast person, I guess." Or really, he'd never been given much of an opportunity to eat breakfast.

"Oh, don't be silly. It's the most important meal of the day!" she scolded good-naturedly. She walked over and opened up a cabinet to reveal several boxes. "We have a lot of types of cereals. Why don't you see if you like any of these?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"Let me get you a bowl," she continued. "And we have juice, milk, coffee, chocolate milk… I don't know what you kids like to drink nowadays."

Suddenly a new voice came from the doorway behind Jack. "You didn't offer me all these options or serve me any breakfast, ma."

Startled by the presence behind him, an undetected presence, Jack spun around and quickly backed up, knocking into a small shelf by mistake as he did so, rattling a potted plant. It was that man again. This man apparently loved to scare people. Jack stared at this man, at his large hands, swallowing hard.

"There you are. Well, you're not the guest of honor, Bobby," Evelyn teased. "Your eggs are getting cold."

Bobby looked at the kid, who he seemed to have frightened half to death again. The kid had big blue eyes that expressed his fear pretty clearly. He reminded himself in the future to try not to sneak up on him, and to consider what sneaking up was very loosely because this kid was evidently afraid of everything.

Jack meanwhile was focused on Evelyn's choice of the words 'guest' of honor. Guest implied a short term stay. He wasn't sure of the implications of her words. Maybe she knew what he tried to do last night. He could tell Bobby had been up already, he'd obviously been making eggs. Sure they would have talked, right?

"Thanks, ma," Bobby said as he reached the stove and smiled at the frying pan. "Ah… So good."

"Are you going to eat all of those, Bobby?"

"Yes, ma'am. They're going to get cold and nobody else is up. I'm a growing boy, I need my strength," he answered, reaching into the cabinets for a plate.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you stopped growing a while ago, Bobby. As much as you would love to be a little taller…"

He sent her a bitter look before he began shoveling his eggs onto a plate with a spatula. "Height means nothin', ma. I could take any six foot punk any day."

"Honey." She shook her head disapprovingly as he dropped egg on the floor. Her words was more for his comment than his carelessness however. She watched him kick the egg on the floor with his foot and cleared her throat, "I'll pick it up, Bobby. Don't worry about it. Eat before it gets cold."

He smirked at her. "Yeah, thanks." He looked up at Jack as he found himself a fork. "You want any of this, Jack?" He pointed to the eggs.

Jack shook his head. He hadn't moved from his spot by the shelf.

"No? I make great eggs though." He took a seat at the table and watched Evelyn pick up the spilled egg with a paper towel, feeling a little bit of guilt. "Ma, I'll get it later, don't worry about it."

"It's fine," she answered as she threw it in the garbage. "You want some juice?"

"Sure."

"Jack, what do you want?" Evelyn asked. She could read the insecurity all over the boy's body language, but she didn't want to smother him too much with reassurance. That could also hurt. She knew he would learn from himself what it was like here, and that it always took an adjustment.

"Juice is fine," Jack answered, watching Bobby spoon large amounts of scrambled egg into his mouth.

"So Bobby tells me that you two already met?" Evelyn asked as she opened the refrigerator. "So I guess I don't have to make any formal introductions."

So Bobby had told her. Something at least. Jack didn't know if that was a bad thing and slowly looked at Bobby for some kind of sign.

"Jack, sit down," was all Bobby said when he met his eye. "You're creeping me out just standing there."

Jack moved away from the wall and acquiesced, taking a seat at the table. He watched Bobby eat. He was already halfway through all of those eggs. While watching he waited for some kind of reprimand concerning last night.

Evelyn set the juice on the table with a couple of cups. "Did you say you wanted cereal, Jack? I'll assume you like the same stuff Angel and Jerry like, which is basically eating candy in a bowl…"

"Kids these days," Bobby muttered sarcastically.

Evelyn smiled at him. "Like you're any different, Bobby." She placed a box of Cocoa Puffs in front of Jack with a bowl and a spoon. "Here you go, Jack."

"You're the one buying it," Bobby reminded.

"True. So I guess I'm the real culprit here. Endangering the health of my children with terrible food."

"Don't be ridiculous. Sugar never hurt nobody," he answered.

Jack tried to open the box quietly, but that was impossible because once you got past the cardboard flaps on the top, the plastic was nothing but loud. He glanced up to see if either Evelyn or Bobby noticed, but neither of them was looking at him. In fact, they were both talking about something completely unrelated.

He poured cereal into the bowl carefully.

"Bobby, do you wear one of those mouth guard things?" Evelyn was asking.

"Ma." Bobby stopped mid forkful of eggs. "Are you still going on about my teeth? I have every single one. Except for the wisdom teeth that fucking idiot of a dentist made me take out."

"Bobby. He wasn't an idiot. They were impacted—"

"They felt absolutely fine before he ripped them out." He paused. "Although I did love those painkillers. I wonder if I could find some of those."

"Bobby," she scolded.

He laughed at himself and at his mother's stern look. He looked at Jack, the potentially 'impressionable' one that she was probably more angry at him for making a drug joke in front of, and said to him teasingly, "Don't do drugs, Jack. Not in front of ma."

"Bobby," she persisted.

"Or ever," Bobby persisted. "What? Don't give me that look, ma. I'm teasing."

"You tease too much sometimes, Bobby."

Bobby just rolled his eyes and poured himself juice.

Jack watched as Bobby pushed the glass of juice over to him and then poured another for himself. "Thanks," he said. That was nice. He didn't mind the painkillers joke. In fact, he found it interesting because the last mother he'd lived with, she'd had quite a fancy for several types of painkillers. He'd stolen a few of them a couple of times to try, some percocet and some vicodin, but wasn't sure what the big deal was…

"So do you?"

Bobby looked up at his mother and frowned. "Do I what?"

"Wear a mouth guard?"

"For God's sake, ma. There must be bigger things for you to worry about than my goddamn teeth, don't you think?"

"Bobby, you have such a beautiful smile. When you actually smile. You don't want to ruin that. You only get one set of teeth."

Bobby shook his head and gave Jack a look. "Hear this? Hear what you're gonna have to live with?" he said with feigned exasperation. "Why don't you baby him and leave me alone, ma? He's the new project."

"Bobby," Evelyn sighed.

Bobby ignored her and looked at Jack's cereal. "Don't eat that dry, that's gross; don't you want milk?" He looked up at Evelyn. "What kind of service is this, mom? Can't even get the boy milk for his cereal?"

Evelyn was pouring herself another cup of coffee, and she moved to get the milk for both herself and Jack. As she put it on the table, she gave Bobby a slap in the back of the head. "You drive me crazy, Bobby."

"I know," he said. "You always said I'd find something I was good at. I'm charming."

"Has your charm gotten you any girls recently, Bobby?" Evelyn ask coyly, always interested, and hopeful, about Bobby's struggling love life. She noted the look of annoyance on Bobby's face and knew she'd hit her mark.

"No girl for me right now, ma. Although you do have a couple illegitimate grandchildren if you ever want to visit or in particular send money on their birthdays. I'll make a list of birthdays for you."

Jack had to admit he almost enjoyed the friendly banter between Bobby and Evelyn, and it was obvious that they shared a very close relationship, taking pleasure in their ripostes to one another. It was new to him, hearing this kind of exchange, and he was intrigued by it. Like he was watching TV. It made him feel slightly better about this character that had caught him stealing, but then again, they were simply a side. He didn't know if he was on their side yet.

Either way, the attention was off of him, and that was all that mattered.

"Bobby, are you sure you woke your brothers up?"

"Yes, I definitely did. Jerry was in the shower so he'll probably be down in a minute."

"How did you sleep, Jack?" Evelyn asked, taking her cup of coffee to sit down at the table with the two boys. "Was your room okay?

Jack was pouring milk into his cereal slowly as Evelyn addressed him. He heard his name and the end of the question. "Oh. It was fine."

"You'll feel comfortable in no time, I hope," she answered. "And I have Anthony's number if you ever wanted to talk to him too. It's on the refrigerator."

Jack looked at her quizzically. No one had ever given him that kind of information before. In fact, it was usually a struggle if he wanted to figure out how to contact somebody. If something was wrong, no one usually picked up on it until a routine check of the house. And here she was handing him the ability to make a call any time he wanted.

"Thanks," he replied, somewhat confused. It probably wasn't even a real number. Maybe he would check it out later.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

_Everyone, thank you so much for your reviews, you've kept me really wanting to update. Again I apologize that school has such a tight reign on me. This is my last semester of college so between social stuff and trying to graduate I've been a little distracted. But I really do intend to keep updates consistent, and I've made a list of things to happen so I can't get writer's block either. Thanks again for sticking with me._

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**Chapter 11**  
_

Bobby wanted to play hockey, and within an hour of everyone finally making an appearance downstairs to prove their ability to wake up, he was urging them out the door.

"It's a beautiful day outside," Bobby said, sitting in the armchair and trying to rub a scuff mark off one of his rollerblades. He eyed his brothers. From the couch, Jerry's eyes were fixed on the TV to some movie. He didn't recognize it, but there was currently a pretty good fight scene on that actually caught Bobby's attention for a moment. Angel was on the cordless phone, smiling and talking too low for anyone to hear. Bobby assumed he was on with that same girl.

And Jack. Jack was sitting on sitting on the couch, also watching TV, and likely just sitting there because Evelyn had suggested he hang out with his new brothers. He didn't look very comfortable. Bobby assumed he could get him to come; he doubted this kid could stand up to anybody and disagree if someone directly told him to do something.

"Didn't anyone hear me?" Bobby persisted. "Why am I suddenly invisible?"

Jerry picked up the controller and put the TV louder.

"Oh no you didn't." Bobby shook his head, dropping his rollerblade and exchanging it for his hockey stick, which he was able to reach Jerry with. He hit him in the knee.

"Fucker!" Jerry shouted, grabbing the end of the hockey stick. "Don't make me shove this up your ass, Bobby."

"Wanna try? Let's take it on the street, Jerry."

Jerry let go of the stick and rubbed his knee. "Chill for a bit, man… Jesus…"

Bobby poked him again. "Fifteen minutes, we're going. I'm driving out to that place by Ned's. A lot of people play there, it'll be easy to get a pick-up game going."

Jerry shook his head, glaring at Bobby.

"That's right, baby," Bobby persisted. "You work up that anger. That's what you need to win. Keep it up and you can be on my team."

"Bobby, I'm about to kick your ass."

"Alright, that's fine. That's fine. Just wait until you got the puck between us, alright? I'd hate to take you out before that."

"Oh, you think that's what would happen, huh?"

Bobby just grinned at him and tapped at the floor with the hockey stick.

"How about you?" He looked at Jack. "You play hockey?"

Angel looked at Jack and then laughed, shaking his head at Bobby. "You want an eleven year old white boy to play with you and the guys you play with? You _are _crazy, Bobby."

"Why am I crazy? I played when I was eleven."

"You also killed somebody when you were eleven," Jerry said.

Bobby burst out laughing. "Please. That would be pretty impressive of me. Jack, do you play?"

Jack was more focused on hoping Bobby wouldn't hit him with the hockey stick too than actually thinking about playing. Of course he'd played hockey before, and he could rollerblade, but he wasn't _great_ and apparently Bobby nearly played as a living. "I've played," he said slowly.

"You wanna come?" Bobby asked. He thought about it and rephrased. "You're coming, okay?"

Jack looked confused. Why was it necessary he come? He suddenly didn't want to play anymore. "I can't..."

"You can't what?"

Jack just stayed quiet.

"He can watch," Jerry said. "No need having him get killed his first week here."

"Fine, but eventually we have to toughen him up," Bobby answered. "Mercers play hockey. Period."

"It's so much better in the winter," Angel complained. He was now off the phone.

"But it's not winter time, is it?" Bobby retorted. "So whatta you gonna do about it?"

"Watch TV."

"Bullshit, Angel. You owe me."

"For what?"

"For what? Jesus. Where do I start?" Bobby tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair dramatically. "Hmm… How about when you owed Jimmy that money?"

Angel made a face, obviously remembering the event. "Oh please."

"Yeah, oh please. That's exactly what you said to me."

Angel rolled his eyes. He knew damn well he was going to play, it was just so much more fun egging Bobby on like this before agreeing.

"Can you argue elsewhere?" Jerry complained.

Angel just smirked. "Or just quit arguing. Bobby comes home and it's like a disaster again. We'll go when this is over." He pointed at the TV. "Okay, Bobby?"

"Fuck yeah." Bobby slapped him again with the stick. "You know damn well."

Angel rubbed his knee and shook his head. "Bobby, fuck off."

"Can we get food out after while we're there?" Jerry asked.

"Sure, sure," Bobby replied. "I'll tell ma." He looked at Jack. "Jack, do you have any skates or rollerblades?"

"No." Jack shook his head.

"Okay. We'll fix that."

"Bobby, he's not playing," Jerry objected.

"Are you ma?" Bobby retorted.

Jerry gave him a look.

"What if he wants to fucking play, Jerry?" Bobby persisted.

"I think you're scaring him," Jerry replied. "And I don't think he wants to play."

"What doesn't scare this fucking fairy," Bobby muttered as he got to his feet with the stick. "I'm getting a beer. Then this show better be over." He looked at the couch. "What good are you all..."

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_sorry i know it's short. i'll write more soon..._


	11. Chapter 11

_This took me forever to get out, and I really apologize to you guys. Hopefully I still have a couple people out there that remember this story and are still going to read it! Like I said, school's been keeping me busy. I'm a second semester senior so you all know what that means--- severe procrastination and severe need for catch up. Anyway, thank you to all of those who have left such wonderful reviews. You keep me writing. And I am continuing this, hopefully without such long delays._

**Chapter 11**

By the time the brothers left the house for hockey, they decided to get food first. Jack was content with this, because they went to McDonalds, and he couldn't remember the last time he got any kind of fast food. He hadn't seen the inside of one of these places in a while.

Bobby eyed the menu, standing on line behind an old man. "What do you all want?" Ma had given him money for the four of them. She had also given him that look that meant there was no reason for them to be going to get fast food when they had plenty of food in the house. But here they were anyway, because in a way it could be considered a special occasion. And Evelyn had a soft spot in her heart for Bobby and what he wanted, especially if it was fairly pragmatic.

When he reached the counter, ordering was a mess as Bobby attempted to order for the four of them, with random interjections and mind changing along the way. The teenager at the register was surprisingly patient and eventually they had the order in.

"Why the hell are you getting a happy meal, Angel?" Jerry demanded as they waited for their food.

"Why not?" Angel answered. "It comes with that car."

"That car is for five year olds."

"Obviously not."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "Well, it's intended for five year olds."

"Jerry, if they let anybody get it, then it's for anybody."

"Having the mental capacity of a fucking five year old isn't just anybody."

"Say what?"

"Will you two stop bitching, already?" Bobby interrupted, giving Jerry a push. As empty cups were placed on the counter in front of them, he gave them a pointed look. "Go make yourself useful. Get yourself a soda."

"Don't be so bossy, Bobby," Angel objected. But he took a cup anyway, and, rolling his eyes at Jerry, stalked off towards the fountain soda dispensers.

"Yeah, _I'm _bossy," Bobby said sarcastically. He eyed Jack, who was running his finger along the countertop with a look on his face that made it obvious his mind was someone else. Bobby assumed that he had zoned himself out due to all of this incessant arguing. He wanted to say something to the kid, but really couldn't think of anything worthwhile. He decided to try anyway.

"So where did you come from, Jack?" Bobby asked.

Jack didn't answer. He was humming softly.

"Jack," Bobby said louder. One of the employees behind the counter started to put fries onto their tray. Bobby reached for a few and said louder, "Jack." This kid's attention span was ridiculous.

Jack looked up then, finger freezing in its path of tracing the counter. He looked up at him. "What?"

"Where'd you come from?" Bobby asked as he ate the fries. They were pretty hot. They must have just been made. Salty too. Perfect. They would go really well with a beer. Too bad McDonald's didn't sell beer. Someone told him they did in France. That would be cool.

"I'm from Detroit," Jack said.

"I know that," Bobby said in exasperation. He snatched a few more fries. "I mean, like where were you before this?"

Jack seemed pretty perplexed about the question. He gave Bobby a bit of a confused look before answering, "Right before this I was back at the group home."

Group home sounded like something for crazy people. Or really old people. There was something about the way it was phrased that made Bobby a bit amused. "How's that? You have any friends there?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess."

"Any you miss?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" Bobby asked. "And where we you before this group place?"

Jack shifted his weight against the counter, a little uncomfortable again with these questions and the focus on him. Jerry was looking at him too. What kind of answers were they looking for? Jack hadn't quite gotten the knack of knowing what people were looking for. Most times he seemed to have the wrong answer.

"I was at another family." He answered slowly, testing the waters.

Bobby nodded and didn't say much. Again, he realized this kid wasn't one to just share information. He looked incredibly nervous for simple questions. Bobby was curious, but he didn't know him really yet, and he wasn't going to press. He would just talk to Evelyn about it later. She already had said they would talk. He would let Jack off the spot for now.

He reached for a few more fries before turning his head to find Angel. He was chatting with some girl by the soda machines, coyly leaning against the counter. Bobby rolled his eyes. Fairly typical.

Within a few minutes, the food came out and Bobby took the tray. "Nothing like some artery clogging food before we try to play hockey."

"It only clogs your arteries if you eat it every day," Jerry objected as he ate some fries. "I'll get your soda, what do you want?"

"Coke's fine," Bobby said. He handed a cup to Jack. "Here, go with Jerry."

Jack took the cup and walked over with Jerry to get soda. He looked at the different types. Dr. Pepper. Coke. Diet Coke. Sprite. Something orange. Jerry was getting ice. Jack didn't want ice. You could get more soda if you didn't get ice. But then again, he could refill it. But what if they didn't come back to refill it?

"It's not a big decision." Jerry laughed at him. He'd already filled his cup with Coke as well as Bobby's. "You're looking really confused for an easy decision."

"Maybe he's thinking about something else, ever think of that?" Bobby replied as he walked past them towards a table that Angel had claimed.

"Well, then what are you thinking about?" Jerry asked Jack.

Jack moved to fill his cup with Sprite. "Uh…. Hockey," he lied.

"Hockey?" Jerry echoed. "Well, Bobby's just going to love you, isn't he," he muttered. "Hockey of all things."

Jack wasn't sure why that answer was such a big deal. Weren't they going to play hockey as soon as they got out of here? He thought that it was a logical answer.

Jack hated the days of being new and trying to figure out people. He couldn't read minds. What did they expect?

At the table he felt awkward. Jerry, Angel, and Bobby all grabbed their respective food without so much as a word and began to unwrap the burgers and munch on ketchup covered fries. Jack reached over for his chicken nuggets carefully.

"Bobby, I've got something to ask you," Angel began with a mouthful of a Big Mac.

Bobby looked at him. "Well, ask." Angel kind of had that look on his face. This was not going to be one of those easy questions to answer. "Well?"

"You got any money?"

"Money for what?"

Angel paused. "Well... How much do you have?"

"On me?" Bobby gave Angel a frowning look. "Why?"

"How much, Bobby?"

"What do I look like to you, a bank?"

Angel shook his head. "No, for real. How much you got?"

Jerry took a sip of his soda. "Why don't you just tell Bobby who you owe money, Angel."

"That's not what this is about," Angel objected, giving Jerry a look.

"Who do you owe money to?" Bobby asked.

"That's not what this is about," Angel persisted.

"It better not be," Bobby retorted. "Sure as hell better not be."

Angel shook his head.

"Then again, you sure as hell better not be _lying _to me either," Bobby continued. "I don't know which is worse to me actually."

"It's not that much."

"How much is not that much?" Bobby persisted. He'd forgotten his food now, and was staring at Angel intently. "Huh? You tell me how much is not that much."

"How much do you have on you?"

"Why this sudden interest, Angel? You didn't say anything about this at home. What about Ronald McDonald makes you suddenly need money?"

Angel sighed and gave the oldest brother a look. Bobby's eyes were cold, and he knew he was getting a bit angry. Understandably. They'd been through this before. Angel wasn't sure how to explain himself. Except for that of course he wouldn't bring it up at home. Not with ma within hearing range.

"I owe a little bit of money. And where we're going, I'm not sure who's going to be there," Angel began. "So I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt if you had some money I could borrow, so that… You know… If I need it."

"No." Bobby should his head. "We talked about this already, Angel."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no. You heard me, Angel. What, so you can owe me money? You think you're good for that money?"

"Bobby, you've gotta. I can't go if—"

"Oh, you're going. We're all going."

"What's it if I owe you some money? It's better than owing somebody else money, isn't it?"

"You shouldn't be owing anybody money, Angel. Period. That's my point."

"Okay, I get your point. Except I do owe somebody money. So…"

"So I guess," Bobby persisted, "you're going to have to get creative, huh?"

Angel swallowed. "Bullshit, Bobby. You'll help me."

"Why?"

"Because, Bobby. You're my brother."

"Who is it?"

Angel shrugged and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Yeah, it does. Who do you owe money to?"

"If you're not gonna help me anyway, then it doesn't matter."

Frustrated, Bobby simply shook his head. "A day, Angel. I've been home for one day. And already--"

"Just drop it then," Angel interrupted. "Just drop it."

"You'll handle this one on your own."

"Obviously."

There was a moment of silence that passed between them. It was then for some reason that Jack finally felt he wanted to speak. "Why would you owe somebody money?"

"Listen." Angel shook his head and gave him a look. "Don't you ask me questions."

"Fuck off, Angel," Bobby replied. "What'd he do to you? Jack, Angel owes people money because he's a dumbass, that's why."

Jack was extremely confused. He didn't know much about what money would be owed for or why it was such a big deal. It must be a lot of money if it was a big deal, but again he wasn't sure. And he really didn't know why it was causing such a big fight between these two.

Half the time they were pretending to fight, and now it seemed like an actual fight.

"Fuck you, Bobby," Angel retorted. "Like you're completely clean. You sleep with a gun within five feet of you every night. And you're lecturing me because I owe a few bucks?"

"It's my job to lecture. You're asking for my help, aren't you? Then you get what comes with that. Deal with it."

"But you're not helping me. You've made that pretty clear."

"Are we going to go in circles with this?" Jerry began. "I'm already bored."

Angel glared at him.

"I don't know how someone makes the same mistake a hundred times," Bobby said. "You know, Angel? If ma knew--"

"Leave ma out of this, Bobby."

"Oh, leave her out. That's convenient. Wait until we're out of the house and then bring all this shit up. Whether or not you talk about it there, you've brought it to her house anyway, Angel. You realize that?"

Angel took a deep breath and rolled his eyes slightly.

"Don't give me that look," Bobby answered. "Stop being a punk. You know better."

Angel didn't answer. He wasn't sure what to say. Bobby was impossible to argue with. He'd pull the age, experience, loyalty to ma, all the same bullshit to win an argument. And there wasn't much you could say in response to that without making yourself look worse. Angel sat there, feeling a bit dejected, and slightly worried about who he might run into when they went to play hockey.

"Just eat," Bobby continued, voice softening a little bit. "If you run into somebody then we'll worry about it then. Kapeesh?"

"Easy for you to say…" Angel muttered.

"Yeah, I'm so goddamn perfect that I couldn't possibly understand," Bobby answered sarcastically. "Besides, let's give Jack a little bit better of a first impression, how about that?"

Angel rolled his eyes again. He already resented Jack a little bit, and not because he wanted to. He couldn't help it. Someone younger, someone obviously vulnerable, who at the least already had ma's complete affection, and Bobby had been giving him a lot of attention already too, in that overt Bobby way. Angel assumed a lot of the reason Bobby was home, although he did randomly visit, was because ma had called him about Jack. Not because of him or Jerry.

"Bobby, if we gave good first impressions, I don't think we'd be where we are," Jerry pointed out.

Bobby allowed himself to smile. "Jerry, that's pretty true, I guess."

"It's completely true."

"We can still try, can't we?"

"I guess."

"Trying never hurt anybody."

Jerry shrugged.

"Just eat up, guys," Bobby persisted. "I want to go kick some ass in hockey."

----


	12. Chapter 12

Midterms and Spring Break are over. Guess which one I miss? Anyway, I've been writing a bit so here is an update, finally. Thanks to all the reviews, especially the constructive ones. I really don't take offense and appreciate it. I'm glad to see you're still reading. This chapter ends a little haphazardly, mostly because it's not ending, but I wanted to get an update up even if I wasn't quite finished with the scene.

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**Chapter 12**

Jack was nervous when they left McDonald's and got back in the car. In fact, he was nervous for the whole car ride. Apparently Bobby knew of some old friends that were playing a game of hockey over by this neighborhood, or something along those lines, and so that was where they were headed. That was innocent enough.

But after listening to Bobby and Angel argue over owing this person and owing that person, and doing this or that, and the repercussions, and who they might run into, Jack was a little uneasy. He barely could say he felt comfortable with these three, never mind with where they were going and who they were going to meet. He thought about when he'd gone to use the bathroom at the high school and ran into those random guys…

But it wasn't like there was much he could do. He just endured the uneasy feeling in his stomach, the almost nauseating feeling, and kept his mouth shut. That was usually the best option. What was he supposed to say?

Now they had plans to stop and meet Peter, one of Bobby's old friends, whom he had apparently made plans to pick up.

Soon they were parking and getting out of the car.

They were all getting out of the car. Jack assumed that meant he should come too. It would seem kind of weird to just sit in the car, and he preferred just to go along with what they were doing and avoid any more stares.

Apparently the people at this house were close friends, wanted to see them all, or something like that. Jack figured he would go inside too.

"Aren't you going to be hot?" Bobby asked Jack when they started walking down the street. It was a dead-end and they were walking towards the house on the end. Bobby tugged at Jack's sweatshirt. He himself was wearing a t-shirt, and with the mild weather couldn't understand how this kid could possibly be comfortable.

"No," Jack answered. He, in fact, was feeling a little warm, but wasn't about to take off the sweatshirt. The whole point of long sleeves was to avoid attention on the bruises on his pale skin. Now he was getting noticed for it anyway.

"You don't feel good or something?" Bobby replied.

"I'm good," Jack said. He wondered if the attention from wearing warm clothes on a sunny day was equally unattractive as questions about his bruises.

Bobby lifted his hand towards him and watched Jack flinch. That bothered him but he didn't say anything. Instead he slowed his hand and continued his move to feel the kid's forehead for a fever. He felt fine.

"I wasn't gonna hit you," Bobby said.

Jack didn't say a word. He just walked with them, now up the grassy lawn to the house, and stuck his hands into his pockets.

"Why would I because of a sweatshirt?" Bobby muttered. "I don't give a shit what you wear as long as you've got clothes on."

Jack ignored him because they were nearing the house, and mostly because he really didn't want to look at him.

Angel was up ahead and already knocking on the door. Within seconds of them all reaching the door, it was opened by a woman, much older than they were, but much younger than Evelyn, with a big white smile across her lips. She was wearing some kind of uniform… Jack guessed from some restaurant…

He wasn't sure if he liked her. Although she was about forty five, she had really bleached hair and bright red lipstick.

"Hello, boys," she said excitedly. "Oh, it's been too long, hasn't it? I'm so glad Dan is home… Now I get to see all my boys again."

"Yeah, I was wondering when that joker would come back to live in your basement," Bobby said sarcastically as he walked up to the doorway. He embraced the woman and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "How are you, Debbie?"

"I'm good," she replied, patting him on the arm. "As good as I can be, I guess. I'm actually off to work in a few minutes so I'll have to catch up with you another time. Do you boys need anything to eat or anything before I go?"

"Nah, we just ate," Bobby replied.

"Angel, Jerry, c'mere," she persisted, hugging each of them and looking just happy in general to see them. "You all look so good." Then she turned to Jack and continued smiling. "And who is this?"

Jack stared at her shoes. They were heels and bright pink. They neither matched her uniform or lipstick. They couldn't be very comfortable either.

"This is Jack," Jerry said, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "We just got him."

Debbie laughed. "Oh, honey, you're talking like you just got a puppy or something." She shook her head before focusing back on Jack. "How do you like the Mercers so far, Jack?"

Jack looked up from her shoes slowly and met her eyes briefly. Sitting in the car would have been a better idea. "They're nice," he said simply.

"Yes, they are. They're really great," she agreed. She turned to Bobby again. "Oh, he's precious, isn't he? Bobby, honey, how long have you been home? I feel like it's been ages."

"I've barely been home," he replied. "I called Dan as soon as I got back into town."

"Any particular reason for the return?"

Bobby shrugged. "Figured it was about time I ventured back to the neighborhood again, I guess…" He glanced at Jack. "And Ma kinda expected it too, in a way."

Debbie nodded. "Well, for whatever reason, it's good to see you back. Hopefully out of trouble as well?"

"Squeaky clean, ma'am," he answered with a smirk.

"That's what I like to hear… All right, well, Dan's right downstairs, so go ahead in a help yourself. I'm on my way out."

"It was good to see you, again," Angel said.

"Bye, boys." She headed down the steps.

Jack felt odd walking into somebody's house while they were leaving. It just seemed counterintuitive. But he followed Bobby as he headed into the house, through the kitchen, and down some stairs.

There was music playing downstairs and he began to hear it halfway down. Jack's eyes looked around the room curiously as they reached the bottom. The basement was covered in shaggy dark blue carpet and one of the walls was covered with album covers and photographs. There was a bed in one corner, a TV in the other, and a couch against the wall. On the couch sat a young man with dark, disheveled hair, who at the moment was preoccupied with packing a bong.

"For God's sake, Danny," Bobby began.

The Dan fellow looked up from his work and grinned. "Hey…" He set down a small plastic bag and got up from the couch, shaking hands with Bobby first and then pulling him into a hug. "How's it been, man?"

"We're going to play hockey, you know." Bobby patted him on the back.

Dan pulled away. "Yeah, I know."

"Then what's this?" Bobby pointed at the table.

"You judging? Or you want in?"

"He's probably judging," Angel muttered. "As usual."

"Fuck you, Angel." Bobby gave him a pointed glare. He looked back at Dan. "You know damn well I'm _not _judging, Danny. Merely wondering why the fuck you want to get high when we're gonna play."

"I wasn't going to get high. Just, you know, I need a few hits."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."

"Who's kid?" Dan gestured at Jack, whose eyes had traveled around the room to look at the pictures on the wall.

"Ours. I mean, this is Jack. Evelyn just adopted him."

"Ah… What's up, Jack, I'm Danny."

Jack glanced at him.

Dan walked back over to sit down and picked up the bong. "Hey Jack… Do you wanna a hit?"

Bobby slapped him across the back of the head playfully before sitting down next to him and laughing. "I know you did that for a reaction. There's your reaction."

"Protective already, I knew it…" Danny just shook his head and laughed. "I'll be ready to go in like a second. You guys want a beer or anything?"

"I'll take a beer," Angel replied.

Dan gestured at the mini-fridge beside the bed. "Help yourself, man."

"Good, drink up. Then I can kick your ass easier when we play," Bobby said.

"That mean you want a beer too?" Angel asked.

Bobby paused. "Yeah, sure. If we're gonna be here for a minute, might as well."

"Your mom know you smoke yet?" Jerry asked. He sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the magazine that was on top of the covers. Sports Illustrated.

Dan shrugged and didn't reply for a moment as he took a rip. Jerry listened to the bubbling sound as Dan pulled up the stem of the bong.

"Ahh, she probably knows," Dan answered after a moment's pause, breathing out just a little smoke. He placed the bong back on the table. "I leave this shit out all the time," he pointed to the piece, "and we just never talk about it I guess."

"Doubt she approves."

Dan just made a face and shrugged. "For all I know she's smoking it too."

"I always pictured Debbie as more of a pill popper than a smoker," Bobby answered.

Dan gave him a look. "Yo, dude, lay off."

"Although she likes her ciggies a lot too."

"True…" Dan laughed. It was hard to be offended by Bobby, considering he knew how much Bobby cared for Debbie too.

Angel handed Bobby a can of beer and leaned against the arm of the chair as he opened his.

"Anybody want to smoke?" Dan offered.

"Nope," Bobby answered. "I prefer my beer."

"No kidding." Dan poked at his stomach.

"Dude, I'm all solid." Bobby gave him a look. "You wanna try me?"

Dan smirked. "I know not to try you, Bobby Mercer. That's why I'm glad you're on my side…"


	13. Chapter 13

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**I really don't have any good excuses for the slowness except that life has been really busy. Thanks for all the feedback, I really do appreciate it, and it does keep me writing. I won't waste your time with more ramblings, so on with the story! More to come later this week, promised. :)

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**

_Continues from end of Chapter 12 _

"I know not to try you, Bobby Mercer. That's why I'm glad you're on my side…"

"You mean you're lucky."

"Same difference."

"Is Jenna home?" Angel asked before a drink of his beer.

"Not sure," Dan replied.

"She still in school?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, she was always the smart one." Dan rolled his eyes.

"She got the looks and the brains," Bobby answered with a laugh. "Sucks for you."

Dan just shrugged. "I still have some redeeming qualities."

"Yes, on the commodities exchange market." Bobby eyed the bong.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've cut back, man. I mean it."

"Not judging you. That's not what I'm here for."

"Course not," Dan answered with a grin. "Ah, it's good to have you back, Bobby."

Jerry was getting restless. "Are we going or what?" he asked.

"Coming from the person whose ass it was impossible to get off the couch earlier," Bobby muttered.

"And?"

"Okay, we're going."

**Chapter 13**

Jerry and Angel were skeptical that there would be a worthy game going on by the time they got there. Dan and Bobby were insistent that there would be. That their friends that knew they were in town had specifically invited them. They had to park about a block away, but when they got out of the car, they could see up ahead a street hockey game in progress where the street turned into a dead end.

There were no I-told-you-so's. Bobby was just happy to see he could play.

Bobby reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. He handed it to Jack. "Hey, kiddo. Since you're not playing. You see that deli?" It was right across the street from them. "Can you buy me a Gatorade?"

Jack looked at the deli and took the money. "Okay."

"Buy yourself something too if you're thirsty," Bobby said as he pulled his rollerblades out of the trunk. He looked over at where people were playing and shook his head. "It's been a while, Dan. You think we can hustle them a little bit?"

Dan grinned. "What do you have in mind?"

Angel rolled his eyes at Bobby, who didn't miss it. Bobby eyed him. "Oh, please, Angel. I know what you want to say. But you're not going to say it."

Angel just gave him a look. "What am I wanting to say then, Bobby?"

Bobby just cocked his head to the side and smirked at his brother. "Please." He shook his head. "Spare me."

Jack wondered briefly what they were arguing about this time, but didn't stick around to find out. He gripped the money in his hand, hidden in his palm, and walked across the quiet street to the deli. He studied the advertisements in the window briefly as he approached.

He was actually relieved for the release from the group, and took a deep breath of comfort in being alone. The past twenty four hours were filled with so many new people that he wasn't sure how to react. Part of him wanted to run away. Part of him was too scared to even consider that, especially after last night.

He glanced behind him before he entered the deli, and saw the other guys moving down the block towards the hockey game. Jack was kind of interested in watching the game. He liked hockey a lot, especially street hockey, because there were less rules and people always seemed to take out their aggressions. He wanted to take out his aggressions. He just wasn't sure how.

A bell jingled as he opened the door the store and the Italian man sitting behind the counter looked up at him for barely a second before returning to reading his paper. Jack was the only customer in the store.

There was an old song playing over the radio and Jack found himself softly humming to it as he walked towards the back of the store where there were refrigerators holding all the drinks. He wasn't thirsty, so he would just buy the Gatorade.

He realized he had no idea what kind Bobby wanted. He saw blue and orange and red and yellow. He really didn't know too much about Bobby to even guess what flavor he wanted. The only thing he'd seen Bobby drink was orange juice and beer. If he was going to stick with color then that would be yellow.

Jack almost smiled to himself. That was such stupid reasoning. It was kind of funny.

Personally Jack just thought red. It seemed like a popular color or flavor. If he was wrong, it wasn't like Bobby had specified. Right? He didn't remember him specifying. Just "buy me a Gatorade". He couldn't possibly get mad over that.

People got mad over everything though. It was hard to predict what would set someone off in irritation. Jack had certainly found himself punished for even less than mixing up a drink. Sometimes even for something that he wasn't even aware of because he'd had nothing to do with it. Sometimes he was just an easy target.

So…. Red…. Orange…. Yellow…. Blue….

Why was he making this a difficult decision?

This was what Anthony always reminded him to work on. He knew he was confusing the consequences of his actions and misinterpreting possibilities, but it wasn't a rationalization, it was a feeling, and that wasn't really something Jack could stop. Feelings were feelings because they couldn't be controlled. They just happened.

He just felt afraid to make the decision.

Even if he didn't make anybody angry, there was the chance of causing disappointment with his decision. And that was always a bad feeling too. Jack hated the look of disappointment in people's eyes. Especially when he was the cause of it. All he wanted was to please somebody.

Come on. It's just a stupid drink. No one cares. He's just thirsty, it's not a life or death decision.

Not making a decision would be worse. Standing in this store in front of the refrigerator would definitely be worse. And then there would be questions. What was wrong with him. What was he doing. Why was he taking so long.

Jack hated probing questions.

So red? It was hit or miss really. There were less reds left so Jack assumed it to be a good choice: the popular choice. He opened the fridge door, listened to the hum of the coolers, and pulled out a red bottle.

"Is this it?" the man asked when he put it on the counter.

"Yeah." Jack put the ten dollars next to the bottle.

The man tiredly rang it up on the cash register and gave him change. "Need a bag?"

"No." Why would he need a bag for a drink? That seemed like a stupid question.

Walking out the door, Jack thought about running away again. It was always just this thought lingering in his mind. He thought about freedom and different cities. Somewhere brighter and friendlier, somewhere with music and less fear.

He was about a half a block away from the guys, who were at the game. He couldn't see from here if they were playing yet or not. He wondered if they would notice if he just disappeared…

He wasn't sure where he would go. Getting lost in Detroit was never a good option, and getting picked up as a runaway was even worse. Jack had always wanted to hop on a Greyhound bus and ride out of the city. Anywhere really. But an eleven year old walking around by himself was usually questioned. And he didn't have any money.

Well, now he had eight dollars and thirty cents. That might get him somewhere.

Jack had put the money into his pocket. He wondered if Bobby would ask for it back. Maybe he would pretend to forget he had change. Bobby might forget as well. It would be a start to some kind of savings.

Another decision. Walk away somewhere or walk towards the game.

He heard Anthony in his head. Telling him to give them a chance and to behave.

Jack felt torn inside. He didn't know what to do anymore. He really just wanted to leave.

More than anything he felt meek though. And after the run in with Bobby last night… He told Bobby he would give it a week. He didn't want to give it a week. But he felt so apprehensive. He felt like someone would notice him walking away and then he would be in loads of other trouble.

Jack sighed and grudgingly began walking in the expected direction. He looked at the game as he walked. The boys were all older than he was, some of them shirtless to distinguish teams, and the play appeared pretty rough. As Jack neared, he saw Angel sitting on the pavement on the sidelines, watching.

He walked up to him slowly.

"Can I have some of that?" Angel asked with a gesture to the Gatorade. Before Jack could answer, Angel had already taken it from him and was twisting the cap off.

Jack watched him take a big gulp of it. "Does Bobby like red?" he asked.

"Huh?" Angel asked as he screwed the cap back on. "Oh, like the flavor? Hell if I know."

"Oh. Okay." Well if Angel didn't know, then he couldn't have been expected to know. He'd only known them barely a day.

See how stupid it was to labor over a stupid decision like picking out a drink, he told himself. He had so much to learn. He wished human nature was more consistent.

Angel set the drink on the pavement beside him. He looked up at the sky, which had once been sunny but now seemed rather overcast. "I wonder if I'll get to play before the weather turns."

"It's going to rain."

"Yeah, that's what I mean. Like the wind just changed and suddenly the sun is gone."

Jack studied the older boy, trying to figure him out. There was more to talk about than weather, and Jack suddenly felt particularly bold. "Who do you owe money to?" he asked.

Angel turned his head from the game to give the boy a skeptical look. "Well, isn't that funny. You decide to speak up suddenly, and with just the right questions, huh?"

Jack wasn't sure what he meant. He felt his heart skip a beat. He was just curious. Now he'd made him mad too. This is why staying quiet was sometimes just a better idea.

"I was just curious," he began in excuse.

"Nah, it's okay…" Angel sighed. "I don't mean to be in such a bad mood. Not letting you get to know me very well, huh?"

Jack finally sat down on the pavement beside him and echoed his sigh.

"Well, I don't owe anybody _here_ any money, at least," Angel said. "Were you worried about that?"

Jack shrugged. It had crossed his mind. After they'd made such a big deal about it back at the McDonald's. The last thing Jack wanted to see was more arguments.

Angel sighed. "Yeah, no immediate trouble at least. Fuck. I was worried about that." He laughed a little nervously. "It's not an exciting story. Just me being a fuck-up. And Bobby's going to kick my ass if I tell him everything. Like there's one good thing about when he's not around. He can't give me shit for this kinda stuff."

Jack wasn't sure what to say again. He didn't know how to move the conversation anymore.

Silence. Silence was painful.

"So you said you played hockey before?" Angel asked.

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"You like it?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I mean, you're too little to play with them like this, but like, it's a big part of our family. Hockey, I mean. 'Specially to Bobby. If you wanna get on his good side, just let him try to turn you into a professional hockey player." Angel laughed. "He'll love that."

"I'm not very good."

"Compared to Bobby none of us are. It's not a big deal. He enjoys it that way. He likes teaching."

"Okay." Jack scratched at his head, messing up his already tousled hair. "Who's Dan?"

Angel rubbed his chin. The kid was suddenly being talkative. The change in weather seemed to have rubbed a little bit of conversation off on him. "Dan… Bobby's just real close to him. They go way back. And we've always just kind of hung out with him because of that. He's not what I'd call a big contribution to society or anything, but he's a real nice guy most of the time. Bobby was into his sister for a little while too."

"Oh."

Angel studied the kid for a minute but didn't say anything. He wondered what the kid was doing with this information. Just storing it in his head for future analysis. Getting to know them slowly.

Silence passed between them. He was an okay kid Angel supposed. Looked like your typical skinny white boy with messy hair and poor clothes, but he knew there was more. He just didn't have the desire to try to pick him apart yet. That was Ma and Bobby's territory.

There was something though. Something about this kid. They'd all had their share of chaos. That was why they were with Evelyn. While some of their experiences may be similar, they each had a unique story.

The silence was suddenly comfortable between them as they simply focused on the game.

However, hockey didn't last long. It finally started to rain and although the boys playing pretended they didn't mind at first, it began to get pretty heavy after just a couple minutes.

"Now I'm jealous of that sweatshirt," Bobby muttered after he walked over to get Angel and Jack. Jack had disappeared under the hood of his sweatshirt and looked miserable. Bobby bent down to pick up the Gatorade bottle on the pavement and motioned for them. "Let's go home. Ma will skin me alive if I bring you all home soaking wet." He quickly changed out of his rollerblades back into now damp sneakers.

"Too late for that," Angel muttered as he looked up at the sky, letting the big drops slide down his face. "I feel like I'm showering with my clothes on."

"C'mon, already, then," Bobby persisted. Dan and Jerry had already run to the car with all their stuff. There were a bunch of people still hanging around but the game was obviously over. "I fucking hate when my nice days are ruined."

"I knew we shouldn't have gotten off the couch," Angel replied as they started walking briskly for the car, Jack trying to keep up with their longer strides.

"You're a smartass today, you know that?" Bobby said.

"You're a smartass every day."

"And way to prove my point, Angel." Bobby laughed.

When they got to the car it was already running, radio loud enough to hear outside the car. Dan was in the driver's seat but Bobby shook his head at him and gestured him to slide across.

He opened the driver's side door. "No way in hell, fucker. You're not driving my car."

"Why not? Your car's a piece of shit," Dan said as he obligingly slid over. Angel and Jack were climbing into the back seat.

"My piece of shit," Bobby reminded as he sat in the car. "Where's your car? Oh, yeah, that's what I thought."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"You only get a little bit of time out of the house today then. You want to come back to our place or…?"

"Nah, just drop me home," Dan answered. "I'm on the way."

Bobby turned the windshield wipers on and put the car into drive. "Well, that was disappointing."

Jack felt his stomach turn. There was that predictable disappointment. It always crept up somewhere.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

It was four AM.

Jack couldn't sleep. The rain beat down outside and he listened to it tiredly. He could see it dripping down the window pane. He hadn't pulled down the shade. He didn't want his sight to be limited to just the room anyway.

The house was quiet, and he was simply restless. Not a good mix. Not that he wanted to interact with the rest of the house anyway.

Rain had turned the house lazy for the rest of the day after they'd gotten home. Dinner was pizza ordered in.

"Jack is going to think we eat like this all the time," Evelyn had teased, referring to the fact that the boys had easily been able to convince her to stay out of the kitchen and allow them to order in.

"We do when I'm home," Bobby responded.

"Oh, honey, you wish."

Bobby just shrugged as he ate a fourth slice.

Now it was late. And Jack wasn't tired. Well, actually he was exhausted. But he couldn't sleep. It was a perplexing paradox.

Too many thoughts were going in his mind. Too many memories… Too many worries… Too many questions about tomorrow.

He couldn't just lay in bed much longer.

He sat up in bed and pushed the covers off of himself. He sat for a moment, listening to the rest of the house, trying to decide if anybody else was awake.

All he could hear was the rain. The house sounded quiet.

He didn't know enough about this house yet though. How thick or thin the walls might be. He didn't know whether he would be able to hear from upstairs whether the TV was on downstairs or anyone was up.

He got up. So it would be a little bit of a risk, learning the ropes.

By the time he reached the bedroom door, he began to hesitate. But he was also at the point that he didn't care. It was late. No one was likely up. He had to stop having this fear.

Jack could be a bold person. He could take risks. The longer he was in an environment, the more chances he would take. It was step one now.

In the hallway outside, he noticed Angel's door open. He remembered that he had left to go visit a girl down the street. Bobby had teased him about it unmercifully for several minutes before he left. Maybe he wasn't back yet? Either that or he was downstairs.

Jack stood at the top of the stairs and listened again.

It was quiet.

He couldn't help but tiptoe down the stairs. They still creaked. He tried walking down one side of the stairs instead of down the middle, then the other side. They just creaked regardless. There was little that could be done.

It was mostly dark downstairs. He could see a dim light coming from the other room and slowly, barefoot, moved across the front hall floor towards that light. It appeared to be coming from the kitchen. He moved slowly, because there was the chance someone else was in the kitchen, and if that were the case then he would certainly turn right back around.

The rain was still coming down pretty heavily outside. He'd overheard the radio forecast earlier that said it might rain tomorrow too. Evelyn had mentioned taking him shopping tomorrow. He really didn't want to go.

The kitchen was empty.

He walked into the room slowly, eyeing the door behind him. No one was up, so he wasn't sure what he felt so afraid of. In reality, this house was still brand new to him. He knew it would take a while for him to ever be able to walk around and not feel like he had to tiptoe.

He noticed the number on the refrigerator once again. Labelled. Anthony's number.

He wouldn't deny the fact it had been on his mind…

Evelyn had pointed it out earlier. He just regarded it skeptically. No one had ever given him a number like that before. A bit of free reign. A just a go ahead if you feel like you want to call. Not that Jack felt at all like he wanted to talk to Anthony, but it was the point of it.

He moved the magnet on the fridge and took the piece of paper into his hand.

Anthony was an interesting character. Sometimes Jack trusted him, sometimes he hated him. Sometimes it was just the familiarity of the man, even in his pointed looks or stern rebukes, that gave a hint of comfort. Just because it was familiar.

He repeated his number in the head a few times. He wasn't sure what to do, but part of his mind was simply curious.

Jack paused and then headed for the kitchen counter. He picked up the phone.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Jack listened to the dial tone for just a second, eyeing the empty kitchen and then the number in his hand. He saw a flash outside. Lightning. He wondered why there hadn't been any thunder.

He dialed slowly, deliberately, holding down each number for at least a half a second before moving to the next. He was just pressing the last number, a seven, when something caught his eye.

Bobby was standing in the doorway.

He'd already pressed the last number and before he could even blink he could hear the phone begin the first ring on the other end.

"Who you calling?" Bobby asked.

Jack hesitated for a moment. The phone suddenly felt like a heavy weight in his hand. He wasn't sure what to do.

Bobby stared at him, a quizzical look on his face. "Jack? Who are you calling?"

Jack swallowed. And then he made another rash decision. He dropped the suddenly heavy phone and ran, right past Bobby.

Startled, Bobby attempted to grab his arm, but Jack slipped past him and darted away. Bobby could hear him run up the stairs and rolled his eyes. Finally he stops tiptoeing, and it's to run away from him. It was somewhat infuriating.

Bobby walked over to the phone and picked it up. He hung it back up and sighed, realizing that he should have known coming to the kitchen to get a mid-night drink would entail a lot more than he'd imagined.

* * *

As soon as Jack raced upstairs, he panicked. He was out of breath, heart racing, and froze. He stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, just listening to his heartbeat. He could still feel the phone in his hands. He still had the piece of paper in his hand. He stuffed it in the pocket of his sweatpants.

The rain was still pouring outside. He almost would have run outside if that weren't the case. But at the same time, where would he have gone outside?

He waited for a moment, looking back down the stairs behind him. He didn't know what to do. In a way he thought that Bobby would have already followed him.

He didn't know how he would answer the questions. He didn't even really know why he'd decided to call Anthony. He didn't know what he would have said to Anthony, or even if Anthony would have answered. For all he knew, and it was probably the case, that wasn't even really his number.

Was that what he was trying to find out? He couldn't even remember.

Jack was almost about to convince himself to calm down, using the fact that Bobby wasn't two steps behind him as a reason, when suddenly the phone rang.

He gasped.

The phone was ringing at 4 am. And it was his fault.

Immediately he ran into his room. He didn't even shut the door. He ran straight for the closet, pulling open the door, ducking inside, and shutting the door behind him. He dropped down to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and breathing heavily.

Now he had woken up the whole house. Shit. It was four am. What was he thinking? Why had Bobby been up? But why was Jack up? And why was he calling someone at 4 in the morning? What had made that seem like a good idea? He had absolutely no good reason.

He was dead. He was clearly dead. He didn't even have a good excuse. He didn't know what to say at all.

The phone had stopped ringing. Maybe. Or maybe he just couldn't hear it from within the closet. He blinked back tears in the darkness. He couldn't hear the rain either. Maybe the phone was still ringing. Maybe he'd woken up the whole house by now.

Everyone hated to be woken up. It was a universal fact. He wasn't sure he had ever instantaneously angered a whole house before. He even topped himself, giving an entire household a reason to be angry at the same time.

He began to get more scared, sitting there in the dark, and squeezed his eyes tight. There wasn't much he could do at this point. He couldn't run away. He couldn't say anything. He couldn't explain himself or turn back time.

It felt like eternity sitting there, and the more and more he started to think about things and what would probably happen to him, the more he became scared and began to upset himself further.

He didn't like the dark, or the enclosed space, or the impending doom. His heart felt huge in his chest and was pounding so hard that it was all he could hear. He felt like something was lodged in his throat and it was like he couldn't breathe. But then he realized how hard he was actually breathing.

Even though it was inevitable, when the door opened it startled him, and he tried to scramble back, only to hit his head against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" Bobby asked, standing in front of him.

To Jack, with the light behind him, Bobby just looked like a huge silhouette. Jack whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting.

Then there were hands under his arms, lifting, although trying to pick him up, and Jack opened his eyes and began to struggle, pulling back and pushing himself into a corner of the closet, wishing the closet were bigger. "No…" he bemoaned.

"No, what?" Bobby responded, aghast when Jack started to cry. "What?"

"What's going on?" came a new voice. It was Evelyn.

Bobby turned to see her in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed and wearing a robe. Her hair was disheveled, and she looked exhausted.

"Bobby," she said sternly. "What is going on? It is four o'clock in the morning."

"I know that, Ma," Bobby retorted. "You think I don't know that?"

"You both should be in bed," she persisted. "What are you doing? Why is he in the closet?"

"I'm trying to get him _out _of the closet, that's the point," Bobby answered, reaching for Jack's arm again.

"_Don't_, Bobby," she answered. "Don't touch him. Can't you tell you're upsetting him?"

"I'm upsetting him?" Bobby looked at Jack in question but Jack's sniveling and tears didn't help him understand.

"Who just called?" Evelyn asked.

Bobby frowned at her. "Anthony."

She paused. "And why did Anthony call at this hour?"

"Why don't you ask Jack?" Bobby looked back in the closet. Jack hadn't moved; he was still sitting in the same corner, sniffling pathetically. "Huh, Jack? Why would Anthony call?"

Jack looked up at him, eyes shining with tears.

"Oh, come on, and get out of there," Bobby said exasperatedly. He reached his hand down again, but Jack whimpered, his lower lip trembling, and Bobby sighed, shaking his head. "Oh, please…"

"I mean it, Bobby," Evelyn persisted. "Listen to me, and just go to bed."

Bobby looked at her and shook his head. "Ma…"

"I will talk to you tomorrow, Bobby," she said, giving him a pointed look. "Now just trust me, and go to bed."

He sighed and just rolled his eyes. Evelyn gave him an appeasing look, and Bobby finally muttered under his breath and walked away from the closet towards the door.

He was going to just walk past her, but Evelyn caught him by the wrist and gave him a look. "Good night, Bobby."

"Night, ma." He kissed her on the cheek.

Jack watched Evelyn approach him uncertainly. He didn't say anything as she got closer, not until she crouched down a few feet away from the door and placed her hands on the floor at her sides. "Jack…" she started.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, tipping his head back to rest against the wall of the closet.

"You have nothing to be sorry about as far as I know, sweetheart…" she said. "What happened?"

Jack swallowed and just stared past her, taking a deep breath. He didn't know how to explain. He didn't know how to begin to explain. All he knew how to do was apologize. So again, he repeated, "I'm sorry.

"Honey, you don't have to apologize…" she said softly. "You don't have to do anything. You don't even have to come out of the closet if you don't want to, although I'd imagine for sleeping your bed is far more comfortable…"

He pressed his lips together and didn't say anything. His heart was beginning to quiet down a little bit. A stray tear rolled down his cheek.

"I don't blame you for being afraid of Bobby," she continued, "and I know me telling you that he's your brother now probably doesn't help at all. I can see exactly why you're afraid of him, but you have to believe me when I say he doesn't want to hurt you."

Jack just listened. He'd heard that before. The 'I didn't want to hurt you but…' speech. He couldn't say that it made him feel any better.

"You know that I will never hurt you, don't you?" Evelyn asked.

Jack didn't answer.

"You barely know me," Evelyn said. "I understand that. I know bad things have happened to you, Jack. Look at me." She paused. "I said, look at me, Jack."

He turned his head and reluctantly met her eyes.

"I know what happened to you," she continued. "And I know you're afraid it will happen again. I guarantee you that it won't with me. Not in my house. Do you understand me? Not in my house."

He could hear the rain again. It was almost relieving.

"I don't care who was on the phone," Evelyn persisted. "I don't care what you had to do with the phone ringing. And whatever Bobby tells me tomorrow isn't going to change that. The only thing I care about is that you're safe."

Jack sniffled. He felt like her eyes looked right through him. He blinked and turned his head away.

"Now it's late," she continued. "We all need to get our sleep, okay? You're welcome to sleep in the closet if you want, or in your bed, or in my room if you want to. I don't mind where you want to sleep. Go ahead and lock your door if you want, too. But you are safe, Jack."

She got up out of her crouched position and straightened. She reached down slowly towards him and while he began to stiffen in response, she simply stroked the side of his cheek and said, "Good night, Jack."

He didn't respond. His eyes locked to the floor and just from peripheral vision caught her leaving the room.

* * *

Evelyn slowly closed the door behind her and was startled when she turned back around to find a man standing in the hall. She gasped.

"Ma."

It was Bobby.

She put a hand on her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. "Bobby Mercer…. You will be the death of me, I swear…"

"Ma, I want to talk."

"Bobby." She gave him a stern look. "It is four o'clock in the morning."

"You just talked to him. Can't I have five minutes?"

"Bobby, he's just a baby, you on the other hand—"

"It's about him."

She sighed. "Bobby, I know I said I would talk to you about him, but this is not the time nor the place," she said, softly but unyieldingly.

"But—"

"All I will say to you now is never to handle him like that. You can't corner him or expect to just pick him up, Bobby. Just because you can doesn't mean you should. Now have a good night, and I will talk to you in the morning." She took a step towards her room.

"Ma…" he objected.

"Bobby Mercer. You know what time it is. Do not make me angry with you. Right now I'm just tired."

Bobby set his jaw and relented. It was remarkable that small Evelyn could instill such obedience in a grown man, but that was Evelyn. "Okay. Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow," she agreed. "Now sleep well."

He nodded. "Good night, Ma."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Not sure how I feel about how I did this chapter. I'll let you be the judge!**

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* * *

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**Chapter 16**

Evelyn awoke at eight. She assumed she would be the first one up, even after she took the time to shower and dress before going downstairs. She was slightly surprised to find Bobby in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and the paper.

He looked up when she walked into the kitchen. "Morning."

"Morning, Bobby. You've been getting up early."

"Eh. Can't sleep."

"Just last night, or is this a recent thing?"

He shrugged. "Kinda a recent thing, I guess." He scratched his head. "You sleep okay?"

"You mean after I got back to sleep?" She raised an eyebrow at him before turning towards the coffee maker, which was already brewing. "Well, one benefit to having you up is my coffee is already made."

He smiled. "Least I can do."

"So." She moved to the cabinet to take out a loaf of bread to make some toast. "Did you want to explain to me why Anthony was calling here at four in the morning?"

"You make it sound like I had something to do with it."

"I'm not making it sound like anything. All I know is that you were up. And you knew who'd called."

Bobby watched her put two slices of bread into the toaster. "Simple, short end of my story. Like I said before, I haven't been sleeping the greatest. So I got up to get myself a drink and I find your project up—"

"Bobby."

He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what her interjection meant. "Sorry. Find _Jack _up, standing over there with the phone in his hand. So I ask him what he's doing or whatever, and he freaks out and runs away."

Evelyn was leaning against the counter, arms crossed. She just nodded, not seeming to be surprised, and he continued.

"So then," he said, "I was just gonna ignore it, so like I just hang up the phone and am like fuck it, you know? But then the phone rang like a minute later."

"And it was Anthony."

"Yeah, he just did a return call thing, however you do that," Bobby replied. "And he asked who it was on the line. So I was like, who's this, you know because I wasn't sure. And he told me his name and I had no clue who it was…" Bobby shrugged. "It was kinda awkward actually. So then I told him Mercer and he immediately knew."

"What'd he say?"

"He said he was Jack's social worker. So I said that made sense because I'd just found Jack on the phone before he dropped it. And neither of us could figure out what the situation was, like why Jack would call, but he told me to call if there was any problem and that he was going to go back to sleep."

"Four in the morning…" Evelyn shook her head.

"Yeah, I know, I'd've been pissed if I was him."

"That's why you're not a social worker, Bobby."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Ma, and you think all social workers have the patience of saints and don't mind being woken up at four in the morning?"

"I should call him today. Did he sound angry?"

"I don't know. Just really tired, I guess," Bobby replied. "Or confused. Both. Why would Jack be calling him anyway?"

"I really don't know, Bobby."

"Are you going to ask him?"

"We'll see. Why don't you finish the story?"

Bobby ate a spoonful of cereal. "That's kinda it. I mean then I got off the phone with him."

"And then?" Evelyn prodded. "Upstairs?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, I just wanted to figure out what was with Jack. Like, I don't like that he just ran away from me. Dropped the phone and just ran away. So I wanted to see what was up, and I knew he'd run upstairs. So his room seemed empty so I looked in the closet."

"And scared him to death."

"I didn't do anything to him, Ma. I just wanted him to get out of the freaking closet."

"There are ways to do that. But you can't just pick him up, Bobby." The toast popped up in the toaster behind her, slightly darker than she wanted, and she moved to get a plate. "You can't just assume you can touch him. In fact that's the worst assumption you could make." With her toast on a plate she went for butter in the refrigerator and a knife.

"Well, maybe if you ever decided to _tell me _what was wrong with him then I could figure out what I can and can't do. But until then how can I not treat him like I treat Angel or Jerry."

"It's not that easy, Bobby, and you know it." She moved to the table and sat down across from him. "First of all, there's nothing wrong with him. Is there something wrong with you?"

"Yeah, lots wrong with me. Can't sleep, bad record, loose teeth from hockey," he teased.

"Bobby, you best keep your teeth if you know what's good for you. And the correct answer is no, there is nothing wrong with you. My point is there's nothing wrong with any of you."

"Sure."

"Bobby, I mean it."

"What happened to him then, that's what I mean."

Evelyn began to butter her toast, and Bobby simply watched. She was glad to have the distraction so that she didn't have to make eye contact during this particular part of the conversation, which was hardest for her to start.

"A lot," she began. "It's hard to really go into detail, Bobby, as you'd probably imagine, and I guarantee if you ever saw his file you would be completely disgusted. It really… surprised me… I guess, I'm not sure what words to use to describe it. But he's been through a lot for his age, I can assure that…"

Bobby managed another mouthful of cereal before he put down the spoon and simply listened to Evelyn. She described what she knew, about how Jack's mother had apparently been suffering from some kind of undiagnosed schizophrenia or anxiety disorder and killed herself when Jack was seven, by hanging herself in their backyard. She was unwed, and Jack's biological father had been missing since he was quiet young.

His mother had a boyfriend for several months just before her death, and Jack then stayed with him. Jack did not have any family to take him in, and so he stayed with this man before he was seen unfit to take care of him anymore. It was a few years before he was removed from the home, however, and during that time it was clear that this individual was not suited for nor desired to be a parent.

Jack's mother's state of mind seemed to have attracted a similarly unhealthy individual, one prone to not simply anger and abuse, but perversity, and it was possible that his mother may have been a victim of this man as well before she committed suicide.

There was evidence of a range of both physical and sexual abuse in the home. There was a history of a few child welfare checks on the home after questionable doctor's visits, but it wasn't until Jack was ten years old that he was permanently removed from the home. Convincing family members of this man's threat as well as Jack's apparent fear to admit to anything prolonged the time it took to rule this man as an unfit parent.

The abuse was substantial in the home and the effects evident in Jack's interaction with adults. The sexual abuse was the most alarming, as Jack had apparently been both subjected to and forced to participate in inappropriate acts. Again, the true extent of the situation was not completely certain. Some of the worry was also that despite Jack's fear of and dislike of the actions, there was question over his understanding of what was actually right and wrong, and what was unacceptable.

Evelyn kept her voice soft as she continued to explain to Bobby. Jack had moved through a few foster homes since being removed from his home. A couple were very short term and seemed to end because of their inability to deal with Jack's mannerisms and interactions. His coldness, lack of concentration, his tendency to disappear, his fear of proximity and contact… These homes "gave up" in a way, unable to "reach him" and feeling too frustrated to continue.

A couple of the other foster homes were found frustrated as well, but unable to deal with their frustration in another way. These two homes in particular were physically abusive and resulted in his placement back in a group home for a while in between homes, and then for a few days until he was placed with Evelyn.

"I don't know if you've noticed the bruises he has on his arms," Evelyn continued. "Those are fairly recent."

"Yeah, I noticed," Bobby answered. "He tries to hide them."

"I know."

"I asked him about them," Bobby admitted.

"What'd he say?"

"Nothing…"

"He doesn't interact well with men," Evelyn explained. "You have to understand that before anything. He fears men. He expects the worst. The sexual part—"

"You can stop," Bobby objected, "with that part. I don't want to hear about that part."

She paused. "Bobby. You have to understand him. What he was used to. You can't be disgusted by him."

"Not by him. Not by him," he said. "I just _don't_ want _to hear about that part_."

Evelyn could observe Bobby clenching his fists and just nodded. "Okay."

"Why was he there so long? I don't understand."

"People don't report things, Bobby. People aren't educated…" she replied. "You know this."

"I know."

"I mean, I gave you the real summarized version of this," Evelyn said. "I mean, really summarized. His file is quite extensive and… well, challenging… But it should make you understand why he reacts the way he does to some things."

"I guess."

"For instance, cornering him in the closet is probably not the best thing you could do," Evelyn reminded. "Trapping him might make you feel like you can reach him, but it's only going to slow down any relationship you want to build with him."

"Yeah…"

"You're a very strong boy, Bobby, just remember that. And Angel and Jerry are used to you being physical, and your short fuse, and you just being you, but they have different ways of dealing with things too, right?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to scare him."

"Bobby, I know that. I do know that. But Jack doesn't know anything about you yet except you're much bigger than he is."

"Then why did you want me to come home now if he's just gonna be scared of me and I do all the things that I'm not supposed to do?"

Evelyn smiled. "Bobby, you underestimate yourself. I think you and him are going to be much closer than you think. You're both exactly what each other need."

"What I need?" Bobby gave her an incredulous look. "Yeah, oh that's all I need. An eleven year old to fuck up more than he's already fucked up. Bingo, Ma." He pushed his chair back. "And the last thing I need is a kid following me around."

"You don't understand at all. Where are you going?" she asked.

"Coffee's ready," he explained. "Want some?"

"Please," she responded. She finally took a bite of her toast as Bobby tended to the coffee. She felt she hadn't done an adequate job of explaining Jack to Bobby. There was no real way to explain, though. All she could do was give him some details, some information. She hadn't told Angel and Jerry much, not yet. She'd just explained to them before he came that Jack was much more of a sensitive boy and to include him but be gentle with him.

Evelyn knew she was right, however. She knew Jack needed a big brother like Bobby, someone who could teach him something, and someone whose instinct, whether he knew it or not, was to protect and teach. She didn't expect it not to be rocky, but she predicted good things to come.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

I didn't proofread. There's your warning!

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**Chapter 17 **

Evelyn left the house shortly after their conversation, leaving Bobby by himself in the kitchen to finish his cereal. The paper still sat in front of him, but he made no effort to pick it back up after she'd gone. Suddenly the day's news, and whatever arrests and murders lay within, didn't interest him very much.

In fact, he'd kind of lost his appetite for his cereal as well, and he moved his spoon around in it a little dejectedly before eating one more spoonful. Then he set the spoon down and sighed.

So. That was that.

There was a lot to think about.

He was really glad that Evelyn trusted him with all of that information, although additionally he realized that she had called him and suggested he come home for a reason more than babysitting. He wasn't sure exactly what, or what he was supposed to make out of all the information she'd just shared with him, but he knew he ought to figure it out.

Angel and Jerry would obviously be an influence on the kid too. But they were teenagers and distracted. Which reminded Bobby that he should wake up Angel so he could go to work. He was working at a little auto repair shop a few miles away for the summer. Evelyn had reminded him before she left to make sure he got him up.

Bobby pushed his chair back and slowly got up. He put his half full bowl of cereal in the sink and then left the kitchen to head upstairs.

Angel was a pain in the ass to wake up. As soon as Bobby walked through his bedroom, Angel rolled over and covered his head with his pillow.

"Wake up, Angel," Bobby started. "I'm honestly not in a good mood so don't piss me off, ok? Ma asked me to make sure you get up for work."

"Don't feel like work…" Angel mumbled from beneath the pillow.

"Well, ain't that a shame. Get your ass up. Now." Bobby pulled the pillow off of his head, immediately inducing a loud groan.

"I have like fifteen more minutes."

"So great, you have time to shower. Now get up or I will drag you out of bed and turn off the hot water while you're in the shower."

Angel rolled back over and glared at him. "You're such a dick."

"Thank you."

"What crawled up your ass and died?"

Bobby shook his head at him. "Get ready for work. If you miss the bus I hafta drive your ass, and I don't need that today."

"Why—What better things have you got to do?"

"Wouldn't you like to know…" Bobby replied.

"Get a life, Bobby. Or a girlfriend. Maybe then you wouldn't be so annoying…"

"Annoying? I've been here for like a day, Angel. Grow up. I hate your mood in the morning." Bobby threw the pillow back at him. "Make sure you get up." He started for the door. "I'll be back to check."

Angel muttered something back that was ignored as Bobby moved across the hall to peer into Jack's room since the door was open. At first glance the room looked empty. The bed was made and no one was in it. His bag sat in the corner, still not unpacked. Upon further inspection, which included the closet and beneath the bed, Bobby confirmed that the room was indeed empty.

Perplexed, Bobby walked back out to see an open bathroom door. He checked and found no Jack in there either, so he went back into Angel's room, where his brother was still in bed.

Alarmed at his brother's early return when he hadn't gotten up like told, Angel sat up and began to say, "Alright, I'm up, I'm up. Alright already…"

"Nah, you're fine," Bobby answered. "I just wanted to ask, did you see Jack?"

"Huh? I am just getting out of bed," Angel said as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed. "Does it look like I've seen him?"

"Yeah, I didn't know if you heard him or anything."

"He not in his room?"

"No."

"Maybe he's downstairs."

"Well, I was just downstairs and no one was there. Ma just left."

"Well, then I don't know. I'm not his keeper."

Bobby watched him rub his eyes to awaken himself and just sighed. "Okay." He left Angel's room and quickly checked Ma's room. Then he headed back downstairs to look around a little bit for Jack. He didn't know why he was immediately worried. He hadn't really looked and it was just a moment ago he noticed he wasn't in bed.

A survey of the first floor of the house produced no results. He definitely wasn't here.

"Dammit," Bobby muttered, somehow feeling responsible for this turn in events. He was the one that scared the kid half to death last night. Jack had already made it quite clear that he wasn't averse to running away and would do so if needed. Despite their deal that he give the house a chance before making that decision, Bobby wouldn't be surprised if he forgot or ignored it.

He wasn't sure what to do exactly. Ma had _just _left. Why couldn't they have noticed this before she left. She would know what to do.

He looked at the clock. Angel had to hurry up. He needed to shower within the next five minutes and be out for the bus within the next ten.

From the bottom on the stairs, Bobby shouted up, "Angel! Are you up?"

"Yeah!" came the shout back.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure!"

Bobby sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He wasn't sure what to do. This morning was _not _going well. That was just about all he was sure of.

With another frustrated sigh, Bobby took a step forward and opened the front door for some fresh air, revealing Jack sitting on the front step.

Jack looked up behind him through his shaggy hair with big eyes, a little alarmed by the opening door.

"There you are," Bobby muttered. "God. You're a handful."

Jack just looked at him quizzically and shifted uncomfortably.

"Did you see Ma go to work?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah."

"She should have told me you were out here."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I fucking thought—" Bobby cut himself off and stopped. Calm down. Don't scare him again. He took a deep breath. "Because. I wasn't sure where you were, that's all."

"Oh…" Jack turned back around and looked at the sidewalk. "Are you mad?"

"Yes," Bobby admitted. "But I have no reason to be. It's just a bad morning kind of mad."

"Oh." Jack paused and continued to stare at the pavement. "Are you going to punish me?"

"What?" Bobby stared at the back of his head. "For what? Sitting on the front step?"

"For making you mad…" Jack continued.

Bobby was a little taken aback. "No. Of course not. You didn't do anything, Jack." He walked out, keeping the door open behind him, and moved to sit next to Jack, who he noticed stiffen up immediately when he did so. "You know who I'll be mad at in a minute, is Angel, because he's gonna be late for work if he doesn't get going soon."

Jack didn't say anything. Bobby noticed the shift in his posture that the kid had made when he sit down, almost turning away. His hand was ducked down below the step, like he was hiding something.

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked.

"Wha… What?" Jack asked, a little nervously. He swallowed and looked at Bobby. "What do you mean?"

"What's in your hand?"

"Nothing."

"You lying?"

Jack didn't say anything.

"Here, show me. I'm pretty sure I don't care. Show me."

Jack licked his lips indecisively and then moved his hand. He threw a half done lit cigarette out in front of them on the sidewalk. And then after a second suddenly jumped to his feet and tried to dart away.

Bobby moved quickly and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him back, nearly into his lap. He held him securely against his knee and said, "I didn't know you smoked."

Jack just swallowed and breathed a little heavily. He tried to pull away a little but realized he was pretty much stuck where he was until Bobby decided to let him go.

"Ma doesn't like smoking, you know. And you're a little young for that, aren't you?"

"No."

"No? You can't even buy cigarettes."

"Are you mad now?" Jack asked.

"No, I'm not mad. I just wish you wouldn't run away from me. Where did you get cigarettes?"

Jack shrugged and tried to pull away a little again.

"Don't smoke in front of me or Ma. Promise?"

"I was trying not to in front of anybody," Jack muttered.

"Well, then you'll have to be more careful or stop, huh?" Bobby replied. "One more question. Why did you try to call Anthony last night?"

Jack's brow furrowed and he began to fidget again. "I don't know."

"At that time of night? Did you want to ask him something?"

"I don't know."

"I think you know. It's ok. Then don't tell me."

"Are you mad now?"

"For God's sake, stop asking me if I'm mad." Bobby let him go and Jack took a thankful step away from the man and stood there, staring at the ground.

Before Bobby could say another word, Angel appeared in the doorway.

"Bobby," he said.

"You oughtta get moving," Bobby said, looking up at him.

"Can you drive me to work? Please."

"Come on, Angel. The bus stop's two seconds away."

"I know, I know. But I'm later than I thought."

"I told you to get out of bed."

"I _did_," Angel insisted. "Can you _please _just drive me and stop giving me a hard time? What else is a fucking car for if you ain't gonna drive it?"

"Angel."

"Can I borrow your car then?"

"I'll drive you, calm down." Bobby got up. "Let me just get my keys." He waved Jack on to follow him. "Come on, Jackie. We're gonna drive Angel to work."

"I don't want to go," Jack said.

Bobby looked at him, a little surprised at the objection. "Why not?"

Jack just looked uncertain.

"Come on, it's not far."

"Just leave him here then," Angel retorted. "Let's just go."

"I don't _want _to leave him here," Bobby answered. "And we'll leave in just a second. I want you to come, okay, Jack?"

Jack just nodded.

"Fine. Okay, let me grab my keys. I'll be right back."

Jack just looked at Angel as Bobby disappeared inside.

"How you doing?" Angel asked him.

"Okay," Jack answered.

"Yeah. Want to go to work for me?" Angel asked. Then he laughed. "Just kidding. God, I am so tired. I wish I was this tired at night so I could go to bed at a decent time."

"Take sleeping pills."

"Huh?" Angel looked at him.

"That's what Kevin did…"

"Who's Kevin?"

Bobby came back through the door. "Okay, ready?"

"Yeah," Angel replied. "Let's go."

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**

* * *

**

Jack was miserable in the car.

Bobby was driving, obviously annoyed, with one hand on the wheel and his other arm resting against the car door. Angel was in the passenger seat, still yawning, changing the radio station methodically.

Jack hated Angel's choice of music.

To make it worse, Angel would listen to a song for about one minute and then change it abruptly. Not that Jack cared for his song choice in the first place, but for God's sake if he picked that song then he could at least listen to it.

"Can you leave it?" Bobby suddenly snapped, reaching over to slap Angel's hand away from the radio controls. "Jesus Christ."

Jack mentally thanked him.

"What?" Angel asked, taken aback.

"You know I hate that. Just leave it."

"Well, now it's on a commercial."

"So leave it on a commercial."

"Bobby—"

"You're gonna be in the car another five minutes. I think you can deal with it, ok? You don't even get a radio on the bus so consider yourself lucky to even hear these commercials."

"You're impossible."

"That's right," Bobby agreed. "I am impossible."

"You _are _having a bad morning…" Angel muttered.

"Yeah, I am. I already told you that. And now I have a massive headache." Bobby shook his head and stopped at the upcoming light. He rubbed his forehead and glanced at the car's gauges. "And fuck. I'm almost outta gas."

"Why are you having a bad morning?"

Bobby glanced at him. "It's not you. Don't worry about it."

Angel yawned again and shrugged. "Just trying to see if you wanna talk."

"Nothing to worry your pretty little black head over," Bobby replied, reaching over and slapping his brother lightly on the back of the head. He turned his attention back to the road in time to see the light turning green. He brought his foot off the break. "You need a ride back from work?"

"Nah…" Angel answered. "I can take the bus I guess."

"You got money?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, call me if you need me to get you," Bobby replied.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. That's if I'm home anyway," Bobby said with a laugh. "If not you're on your own."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Why? Where you plannin' on being?"

"I got things to do. People to see."

"Yeah, I bet, Bobby. I bet you do."

"One day I'm back and suddenly no respect," Bobby teased. "I'll teach you respect. You wanna get out here and walk?"

"I'm early anyway."

"Dumbass." Bobby shook his head.

Angel turned in his seat to look at Jack, who was sitting quietly in the back seat. On Jack's face was a scowl. "Jack, you oughtta have Bobby here tell you about prison."

"Oh, stop it," Bobby responded.

Jack just set his jaw. He wished he had another cigarette, and he wished he wasn't in the car. He wanted to ask if _he _could walk back from here, but knew it was stupid. He didn't really care if Bobby had been to prison and didn't know why Angel had mentioned it to him. It's not like he'd never met anyone that had been in prison before.

"He doesn't talk at all, does he…" Angel turned back around.

"Sure he does. But why's he got to acknowledge the stupid things that come outta your mouth?" Bobby answered.

Angel turned to look at Jack again. "You think I'm stupid?"

"Angel," Bobby said with a quick glare. "Stop trying to get a rise."

"I'm not." Angel sat back in his seat. They were almost at their destination and he sighed, wishing he'd had breakfast. His stomach was already starting to growl. It was too late now. He glanced at Bobby, and then something caught his eye at his waist.

"Bobby." He started slowly. "Why you still carrying a gun?"

Bobby didn't even look at him. "Why you care?"

"Because. You'd give me shit for it."

"It's habit, Angel. Don't you worry about it."

"Mr. Tough Guy."

Bobby glanced at him. They were there. "Corner okay?"

Angel sighed. "Yeah…"

They were stopped a moment later and Angel got out of the car, not turning back to look at them as he walked toward work.

"Wanna sit up front?" Bobby asked Jack, looking at him in the rear view mirror. Jack didn't look very happy.

"No," Jack answered.

"Why not?"

Jack didn't have a very good answer. He in fact just preferred having the backseat to himself and having the space between him and Bobby. But that was hard to explain.

"Put your seatbelt on," Bobby said, not waiting any longer for an answer. He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. "You mind if I stop for gas before we go home?"

Jack shook his head. "No."

"You wanna go anywhere else while we're out?"

Jack shook his head again. "No." What was he supposed to say?

"I'm just trying to have a conversation, Jack. That's all." Bobby was stopped at another light. He sighed. "I know what we should talk about. Why don't we talk about last night?"

Jack stayed silent. He slowly put his seatbelt on and tried to avoid looking in the rear view mirror where he would undoubtedly meet Bobby's eye.

"I'm not mad about it or anything," Bobby continued. "I just wanted to talk to you about it."

Silence.

"Why did you call Anthony? You know he called back, right?"

Jack stared at the headrest in front of him.

"He didn't know why you'd call either."

Silence.

"Nothing? No response?" Bobby asked. He squeezed the steering wheel. "You realize silence isn't really a good method of dealing with shit, right?" Bobby persisted, growing frustrated. "In fact, it's really just a good way to piss people off. So congratulations, you wanted to know when I'm mad? I'm getting mad."

Jack set his jaw, brow furrowed.

Bobby let out a deep breath. "Today… Today is a challenge…"

A minute of silence passed between them. It ended when Bobby pulled into the gas station and up to a tank. He put the car in park and turned the key, pulling it out of the ignition. Then he turned in his seat and looked at Jack.

"Stay put, you hear?"

Jack continued to stare at the headrest.

"Hey," Bobby insisted. "Look at me." When Jack didn't give any sign of acknowledgement, Bobby just shook his head and started out of the car. "You'd better stay put or you'll get it…" he muttered.

Pumping gas was almost therapeutic. Watching the numbers tick up for the price and gallons was kind of soothing in a way. But he couldn't help thinking. He reminded himself to stay patient. Jack was just a kid. But more than a kid, he remembered, as Evelyn's words from that morning continued to haunt him. Who knew what was actually in Jack's head?

He just wanted to be able to get a simple answer from a question, but it wasn't that easy. And Jack wasn't like Angel or Jerry and he couldn't get answers out of him the same way. Jack was harder, yet a hell of a lot softer. Scaring him wasn't going to do anything. Jack seemed to click in and out. Pushing him out certainly wasn't going to get them any further.

Bobby glanced into the car. Jack was still sitting there, now chewing on his thumbnail. He wondered if he wanted to run. He thought back to finding him on the front step, and what a relief that had been. He still didn't know what he would have done if he wasn't able to find the kid.

Sitting there smoking no less. Jack was older than his eleven year old stature gave evidence to. Or he struggled to be older while still painfully a child, trying to hide and tiptoe around his actions. Ma would just be thrilled to know he smoked, and stole, and had already tried to run away.

His mother was smarter than that though. Something told Bobby she already knew most of these things, or at least would not be the least bit surprised upon learning them. His mother was a special person in that respect.

Finishing up, Bobby opened the car door again and leaned in to look at Jack. "Hey, kiddo. I gotta pay inside, you want anything?"

Jack shook his head.

"I'm getting coffee. You sure?"

Jack nodded.

Jack watched Bobby shut the door and walk away, seeming to be calmer than when he left the car. He didn't really understand Bobby yet, or how he should expect him to react to things. He wasn't sure what to make of him, or what his intent was. There were too many new things for now. He couldn't process. All he knew was that he would stay in the backseat…

Bobby was back in minutes, pushing a coffee into the cupholder and shoving the key back into the ignition.

Jack decided to try to talk. He knew Bobby had been at least slightly annoyed, whether at him or at the whole morning, and knew from past experience that it was better to have him in a better mood by the time they got home.

"I didn't think the number was real," he said.

"Huh?" Bobby asked as he drove out of the gas station and back onto the main road. "What are you talking about?"

Jack hesitated. "The number. I didn't think it was real."

Bobby paused. "Anthony's number?"

"Yeah."

"Why wouldn't it be real?"

"I don't know."

"You thought Ma would just give you a fake number?"

"I don't know."

"So four o'clock in the morning's a good time to test it out," Bobby said.

"If it's not real."

"You have a point. But it was real."

"Now I know."

"Now you know. That's good." Bobby rolled his eyes. "That's real good, Jack. You make a lot of sense to me."

"Why would she give me a number anyway?" Jack replied.

"Why not? She thought you might like to talk to him or something."

"No."

"Why not?"

"What do I have to talk about?"

"Apparently not much at all judging by your conversations so far…" Bobby answered. "Look. Basically it was to have the option. If you wanted to call him, you could. It would just be there."

"But why?"

"Why?"

"Why would I need to call him?"

"If you thought something was wrong, maybe? I don't know."

"Is something going to be wrong?"

Bobby sighed. "God, I don't know. It's up to how you feel about things I guess."

"Feel about what things?"

"Well you've only been here a day. But look at before. Like, who did that to your arm?"

Jack paused. "I don't know."

"I know you do, but that's not my point. My point is that it didn't just happen," Bobby persisted. "So it's like, if something happened to you, you should've been able to tell somebody. So Ma is just showing you, I guess, that like, you can."

"What's going to happen to me?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nothing, Jack. Nothing here, anyway."

"Here as in the car, or—"

"Here as in here," Bobby answered. "As in, like, being with Ma." He paused. "Who did that to your arm anyway, since I brought it up?"

"What's wrong with my arm?"

Bobby frowned and looked back at him in the mirror again. "Kid, I saw your arm. So you tell me."

"I… I bruise really easily," Jack answered. "And I fell, so—"

"At least I know you're a terrible liar. What happened?"

"I fell."  
"Uh-huh. Did you hurt anything else?"

"Yeah."

"So what happened?"

"I don't remember. I did something."

Bobby realized this probably wasn't the right way to talk about it. Jack was sounding nervous again. But he didn't really know what else to do. They were almost home. Like five minutes away maybe. He just wanted to fix the kid somehow, instead of having this awkward relationship. But a day wasn't really enough time to expect anything.

He thought about his conversation with Ma again.

"We're almost home," was all Bobby could say.

"Okay," Jack responded.

They rode the rest of the way back in silence again.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks to everyone for all of their kind reviews. I really mean that. I wish I could be more loyal with the fandom and read/review more stories myself (which I'm trying to do!) but recently it's really hard to find the time to even write. There's a lot of really great writers out there and I want to thank all of you for writing such great fics.

There's also been a bunch of questions that I won't necessarily answer with more than a mischievious 'you'll just have to keep reading…' as while some of this is planned out in my zany head, things are apt to change as well.

Thanks again for all the reviews.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Bobby was happy once they reached home so that he could finally get out of the car and end the ridiculous silence that existed between him and Jack. He realized he was equally at fault for the silence considering he kept trying to ask Jack questions, but what else was he supposed to do?

So after five more minutes in the car with Jack sulking in the back seat and Bobby driving, feeling like a chauffeur alone in the front, he was more than happy to pull up to the house.

"Home," he announced, as though it wasn't obvious. He turned in time to see Jack's big yawn. "Tired?"

"No."

"Well, I am. Today already feels too long." Bobby got out of the car, and slammed the door behind him. A moment later, Jack followed suit and walked up to the door a few steps behind him. He yawned again.

"You sleep okay?" Bobby asked. He was just walking over the discarded cigarette from before. He kicked it aside.

"Yeah."

"You sleep in your bed?"

"Where else would I sleep?"

Pushing open the front door, Bobby smirked and replied, "Well, I woulda laughed if you slept in the closet. That can't be comfortable."

"Why would I sleep in a fucking closet…" Jack mumbled. He followed Bobby into the house, hands stuck into his pockets glumly.

"If you were scared of something."

"I'm not scared of something," he answered defensively. "And I don't sleep in closets."

"Well, then why were you in a closet to begin with?" Bobby turned and gave him a look. "Answer me that."

Jack felt flushed. He shrugged.

"Dunno? Most people don't hang out in closets. Least not where I'm familiar."

Jack just shrugged again and gave Bobby a frown. He hated these conversations. They were still standing in front of the door and he began to feel a bit uncomfortable. He felt a lot of scrutiny from Bobby since the moment he met him, understandably when at that moment Jack had been trying to steal money out of Evelyn's purse.

Silence was always a better option. He immediately regretted talking so much.

He'd decided that he wanted Bobby to like him, but wasn't feeling like there was much he could do, since Bobby mostly just seemed frustrated with him or preoccupied with something else. He didn't really understand how to act.

There was the awkward silence again. Jack suddenly felt like he was under a microscope in this increasingly small room.

"Stop looking at me…" Jack mumbled.

"Huh?" Bobby gave him a look. "Seriously, I can't hear you. I swear you either are completely silent or mumbling so much it's like you're silent anyway."

"Stop _looking at me_," Jack insisted, slightly louder.

Bobby studied him. Jack went in and out of moments of either pure submissiveness or attempts to speak up. He wasn't sure how to respond. Jack's eyes had gone to the floor now, and he was starting to inch backwards.

Bobby sensed the meek side of Jack coming back now that they were standing in front of each other. He'd gotten a few minutes of Jack with a little bit of courage to speak up, but it was fading.

What did Ma expect him to do with the kid?

Well this request was just fine. He would 'stop looking' at him. No problem. He simply walked away and started inside. "Did you eat breakfast?" he asked.

Jack shook his head. "No." He stayed by the front door.

"You want me to make you something?"

Jack shook his head again. "No."

Bobby turned and sighed. "What do you want to do then?"

"I'm going to go upstairs," Jack said. But he didn't move anywhere. It was like he was asking for permission. He looked up at Bobby uncertainly. "Can I?"

"Kid, you can do whatever the hell you want as long as it's not setting the house on fire," Bobby answered. "Going upstairs is not a special privilege. Want to make sure Jerry is up if you go up there?"

Jack made a face and hesitated.

"What, you scared of Jer too?" Bobby insisted.

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "No. I…"

"Look… Life is not nearly as stressful as you are making it out to be," Bobby began. "I'll wake him up then, don't worry about it. Go on. Have fun in your closet…" He continued inside.

Jack told himself that Bobby was teasing, but it didn't help him feel any better. He felt like Bobby was exasperated more than good-naturedly joking. He stood there for a moment just thinking before turning to walk up the stairs. But a few steps up he hesitated, because he had nothing in his room, and he really didn't want to sit there by himself.

It was still so early in the day. He always woke up early when he was nervous. This morning was no different. So he'd spent his morning just sitting on the front step, watching cars drive by, and wishing he could sleep more.

Most of his thoughts then consisted of worrying about the phone call from the night before and what the consequences would be. He couldn't conclude anything, and within an hour Evelyn came out to leave for work and talked to him for a few minutes.

Evelyn seemed to be a really nice lady. There was something about her that he wanted to trust, but that almost trusting kind of scared him. Because he'd mistakenly trusted people before, and he realized it was usually better to hold off until you were really sure or else it could come back to hurt you.

So far all she did was try to talk to him. He didn't know if Bobby had ever told her about when he went through her stuff looking for money, but it didn't seem like it. He didn't know how things would change if she found out. She obviously knew about the late night phone call, and that was bad enough, really.

The stealing thing would probably be the end though. But maybe Bobby wouldn't tell.

He had around eight dollars now. It was from when he bought Bobby that Gatorade before hockey. Bobby had never asked for the change back. So Jack kept it. It made him a little nervous… Thinking it might be like a test or a trick or something. Even if Bobby didn't remember, he _might _remember and _then_ get mad.

Jack could always pretend he'd forgotten about the change. Except if he spent it that would be hard to explain. To spend something you had to realize you had it…

But eight dollars was eight dollars. He could do a lot with eight dollars. In general it was hard for an eleven year old to come by money. Especially since where he was used to being, money was extremely tight. In fact, he suddenly remembered one time when he was eight and was supposed to bring back change from the store down the street after buying some food for dinner.

The change probably would have been around ten dollars and along the way he somehow misplaced it. Which wasn't surprising considering he always misplaced things. But being eight he didn't really have any means to give back another ten dollars. Ten dollars, though, as he learned the hard way, that could be a six pack, or a bottle of wine. To make it worse, he was _always _asked for the change back, so there'd been no way to avoid getting a good thrashing when he got home without it.

But since Jack now had this money a day it was almost long enough in his head to consider it his. It was in his pocket now.

He wanted to go for a walk and check out what was around where they were. He was only slightly familiar with the neighborhood he was in, and it was an excuse to get out of this house and away from people staring at him.

He could hear Bobby in the other room turning on the TV. He thought for a minute that maybe he should ask to go, but then hesitated. First, what if he said no? Then Jack would be stuck just sitting here trying to figure things out and possibly getting asked more questions. And secondly, five minutes ago Bobby told him exasperatedly that he could just do whatever he wanted if he didn't burn down the house. Which he had no intention of doing.

------------

Bobby hated TV early in the day. He could never find anything on except infomercials and soap operas, neither of which he was fond of. He didn't know what it would be like to be a housewife and have nothing to watch on TV. Then again, they probably would have other things to do than to watch TV.

Comparing himself to a housewife made Bobby roll his eyes, a little frustrated. He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He'd come home because Ma had wanted him to. He'd been gone for three weeks this time and with the new kid Ma wanted him to start to be more reliable and present.

It wasn't that he minded being home. It was just that his restlessness usually got him into trouble. In fact, if he wanted something to do, he knew there was plenty of unfinished business he could stir up, but that probably was not the best of ideas.

Home was frustrating now though. He always felt this extreme responsibility when he was home, like he should be taking care of things, but at the same time didn't find himself focused or productive enough to be the type of person he wanted to be. Angel and Jerry weren't just kids anymore, they had plenty going on themselves, and it made Bobby start to realize he should do something with his life. He was getting to that age…

And then there was the lack of focus, lack of patience, lack of all the things Evelyn scolded him for. 'You've got just as much brains as brawn,' she would tell him. 'Use your brains first.'

And now there was Jack, and Bobby had no idea how Evelyn was up for this one. She was a saint, taking on kids like they were stray puppies that needed homes. Bobby knew that they had all been complicated; if they hadn't been, they wouldn't be here. But Jack was a whole new ballgame.

Bobby rubbed his eyes and convinced himself not to worry about it for now. Besides, Jack was Evelyn's job. That was what she did. She'd turned him, Jerry, and Angel around for the most part by now and who said she couldn't do it for another if she was up for the challenge? If Bobby knew how to handle it, then he would be the one taking in impossible cases, but he wasn't.

The Wheel of Fortune caught his attention for a few minutes. Then when it hit commercials he sighed, leaning his head back against the couch and looking up at the ceiling. He wished it wasn't so early so that he could have a beer and not feel like he was crazy.

He figured that he should wake up Jerry soon. That was something to do at least. One thing he at least enjoyed while at home was being the older brother. He thought Jack would be fun too but it seemed like there was a way to go before that.

He left the TV on and started upstairs to Jerry's room. Jerry's door was already open and he looked in to find it empty. He could hear the shower running and assumed it was Jerry, but looking into Jack's empty room to find it empty as well, he wasn't sure. He knocked on the bathroom door.

"Jerry?" he called loudly.

"Yeah," came the response.

Bobby opened the door and stood in the doorway, as the bathroom was quite muggy and fogged up from the apparently very hot shower Jerry was taking. "I was just making sure you were up. God, it's a sauna in here."

"I'm up," Jerry answered from the shower. "Angel get to work?"

"Yeah, I drove him." Bobby leaned against the door frame.

"I was wondering. His shift was early today and he was up forever last night."

"No one was up as late as me," Bobby answered.

"Huh? Why?"

"Nothing."

"You not sleeping well?"

"So so. It was more than that though, but forget about it."

"If you say so."

"Okay, it's too hot in here for me. I will talk to you later," Bobby replied. He left the bathroom and shut the door again. Then he walked back to Jack's room and checked the closet and under the bed again.

Was this serious? Was this really a repeat of this morning?

This time Bobby wasn't going to get concerned immediately. Sure the kid said he was going upstairs but maybe not. Maybe he was sitting outside again. Before checking that, Bobby looked in the other empty bedrooms, as he already had a slight indication that the kid wasn't shy about looking through things, but came up without Jack.

Bobby scratched his head and started downstairs. He hadn't seen Jack come anywhere near him downstairs, but it was possible that the tiptoer had gotten by him.

It wasn't a big house. It only took Bobby a few minutes to go through downstairs and come up empty. Unless the kid was really hiding, then he wasn't in the house.

Front step was the next check.

No one was sitting there.

Bobby frowned. Just like before except he wasn't outside. This was interesting. Fifteen minutes ago they were just coming back in from dropping off Angel and now he'd disappeared.

Bobby then decided that he did want a beer. So he got one from the fridge and sat back down on the couch inside to resume watching the Wheel of Fortune. There wasn't much he could do at the moment.

Jerry came downstairs just several minutes later. He first went to the kitchen and rummaged around for food. Then he joined Bobby on the couch with a big bowl of cereal.

He gave Bobby a critical look. "Bobby."

"What?" Bobby looked at him. "What's that look for?"

"Ain't it a little bit early?"

Bobby held up his beer. "This? Nah, I've been up."

"Regardless…"

"Don't judge me, little bro. I'll kick your ass."

"Beer in the morning just usually isn't a good sign."

"Well…" Bobby shrugged. "Sometimes you just gotta relax."

"I guess." Jerry shrugged. He started to eat his cereal slowly.

Bobby let a moment of silence pass and then spoke up again. "So… I can't find Jack."

Jerry swallowed some cereal and replied, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't think he's in the house."

"Ma take him to work?"

"Nope."

"He outside?" Jerry asked.

"Didn't see him."

Jerry raised his eyebrows. "I don't know where he would be. I really don't know him that well yet, and when I've talked to him… Well… He doesn't say much."

"Yeah, I know… I'm just not sure what to do yet."

"Were you supposed to be watching him or something?" Jerry asked.

Bobby took a long sip of beer. "I'm not sure what the fuck I'm supposed to do with him. I mean, I wasn't not watching him, I guess. But it's like… I don't know. I don't know why the hell I'm even home. If Mom wanted a babysitter—"

"Why do you sound pissed off?" Jerry interrupted.

Bobby shook his head. "I'm not pissed off. I've just already had a really intense morning. Got up really early. Had a stressful talk with Ma before she left for work. Then I thought Jack was gone then too, but he was actually just sitting outside, which I eventually realized. Then I had to drive Ang to work because he can't drag his ass out of bed in time… Now the kid's gone again."

"That is a pretty busy morning," Jerry agreed. "I don't really know what to tell you."

"Nothing. You're not supposed to tell me anything. I figured you're at least the most rational of us. That you might be able to think of where he'd be."

Jerry shrugged. "I don't know. Like I said, he's kind of a mystery to me."

Bobby sighed. "Should I call Ma?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I don't know if it would worry her, you know?" Bobby replied. "And I don't want her to start in on me. That I can't even watch a fucking ten year old."

"Isn't he eleven?"

"Big difference. He disappears, and I don't like it." Bobby set his jaw.

"Mom said to go easy on him," Jerry reminded.

Bobby was silent and just nodded. Jerry was saying that without even knowing the truth behind it. Bobby wondered if Ma would explain to Jerry or Angel what was really up with Jack and where he'd come from. It wasn't his place to explain things to them about what might account for Jack's behavior.

"I hate babysitting," Bobby muttered. "Am I babysitting? I don't even know."

"You're a terrible babysitter. Every time you 'watched' us, something happened."

"Please. You're all still in one piece and not any worse from me."

Jerry just rolled his eyes. "Okay."

"I didn't get any of you taken away at least," Bobby laughed.

Jerry smirked. "True."

"So let's think this out. Should I worry that I don't know where he is? Because it's been only like a half hour since we got back from dropping off Angel, and Jack came with me then."

"I don't know. How do you feel?"

"Maybe if in a while I still don't know where he is, then I should start to worry."

"What's a while?"

"That I haven't figured out yet. An hour? Two hours?" Bobby paused. "I probably should just call Ma. She's the one that knows more about him, and like, whether it's better to let him have his space wherever he is or figure out where he is."

"Honestly, I have no clue."

"Why do I just feel like today is going to be a terrible day?" Bobby should his head. "You know how you just get that feeling? And then it's like all fucking downhill from there."

"Well drinking beer at this hour and watching Wheel of Fortune… Usually a recipe for disaster…"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Smartass. What are you up to today?"

"Camille and I are supposed to have lunch together."

"How are you two doing?"

"Fine I guess… Her grandma's sick so I haven't seen too much of her lately. She's been all with her family and stuff…"

"Oh, that sucks. Hopefully she's doing okay."

"Yeah…"

They both watched the TV for a few minutes. Another episode of Wheel of Fortune had started. Then Bobby sighed and said, "I don't remember being eleven. How self-sufficient are you? Like should I be more concerned about this?"

Jerry gave him a quizzical look. "You're really worried about him, aren't you?"

"It's just that the first night he was here I caught him almost leaving to go get on a bus to God knows where. So I'm just wondering, you know?"

"I don't know. Eleven is… I mean, you can't do much at eleven. If he gets in trouble, he'll get picked up by someone and Ma will get contacted."

"That's not exactly the best thing."

"Yeah, how many times did that happen to you," Jerry teased.

"And you."

"Not as much as you."

"Well, shit happens." Bobby thought about it. "Maybe he's outside, and I just didn't see him. I'll wait a little while and then call Ma."

"Maybe when he gets hungry for lunch he'll come back." Jerry shrugged. "I would. I mean, maybe he's just got something to do."

"He's eleven. And he's been here how long? I mean, what's he gotta do?"

"I don't know, Bobby. I was just trying to think things out. But I think you're better off like you said to just give it a little while and not jump to conclusions or anything like that."

"I was gonna go to Danny's today, too," Bobby said. "But I can't if you're out with Camille, and Angel's at work. I mean, that's kinda shitty, to leave him here by himself, if he is hiding somewhere, or to have him come back to an empty house."

"Have Danny come over here. He should come out of his basement anyway."

"Yeah…" Bobby finished his beer. "I'm just going to give it a little time. Like you said."

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

**Two chapters in two days! I'm on a roll…**

**Some of you have made the comment that the story is moving slow. I realize that as well, and it's a fault of how I write in a way, trying to develop the characters before leaping into a lot of fast paced plot, but I am intending to sculpt a bit more action and entertainment into the story. Thanks for the reviews!**

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Chapter 20**

"I can't find Jack."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I was wondering why you were calling."

Bobby sighed. "Well? What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, what do you mean by you can't find him?"

"What does it sound like I mean, Ma? I looked around the house. I looked outside. I _can't find him_."

It was Evelyn's turn to sigh. "Oh, Bobby."

"What? Are you angry at me?"

"Bobby, when am I ever angry with you? I'm sure it's fine. Jack has the tendency to wander. He's quiet, so you know, so you can miss where he goes. I'm sure he's absolutely fine."

"I don't like people that just wander off."

"He's just a child."

"I know that. That's why it's even worse. Doesn't that make it worse?"

"You just have to understand him. Now, you're sure he's not just off somewhere in the house?"

"Positive. I looked in all the closets, Ma."

"Okay." Evelyn paused. "I'm sure it's fine. When did you last see him?"

Bobby hesitated. "Well, I didn't want to worry you, so I didn't call like the second that I couldn't find him. But Jack and I dropped off Angel at work and came back here. And he said he was going to go upstairs, but ten minutes later when I went upstairs too, to wake Jer, I didn't see him up there. So I looked around the house."

"It's one o'clock now."

"I know, Ma. So it's been, like, a few hours, I know. I didn't think that… Well, Jerry and I decided not to worry right away, because, like, you know… Who knows what the kid is up to…"

"Where's Jerry?"

"He went out with Camille for a bit… Angel should be home soon."

"One of the first things Anthony told me was that Jack had the tendency to wander off. So it's not out of the ordinary for him. He gets curious."

"He should have told me." Bobby had had four beers now. He didn't feel patient at all.

"Bobby. Rationally, yes, of course. But he doesn't know that. Now, did you give him any reason to maybe want to leave the house?"

"Whattaya mean?" Bobby responded.

"You remember last night. Was there any kind of repeat of that?"

"No."

"You sure? Something that you might not think of, but he might?"

Bobby sighed. "No, Ma. I'd know. I just tried to talk to him a few times but he's not so good with conversations. Oh, I found out he smokes. I'm sure you're thrilled to know that."

"There are worse things, Bobby. That we can handle."

"Maybe he went to get a pack of cigs."

"Bobby, don't be fresh."

"I'm just frustrated, Ma. I don't know what you want me to do. You leave me with this kid, but what am I supposed to do with him? I didn't come home to babysit, you know that. I don't know what to do. I can't like keep glued to him every second to know where the hell he is."

"Bobby," Evelyn replied firmly. "I don't expect that."

"And now I'm sittin' in the house all day, 'cause I don't want him coming back to an empty house or nothing, and I don't know what else to do."

"I have a good feeling that he's fine, Bobby," Evelyn replied. "You just calm down. I don't expect you to be his keeper or anything. He's very independent. He'll be fine."

"So you're not worried?"

"Not yet."

"Well when is the point to become worried? Another hour? Another three hours? Five?"

"Bobby, you disappeared yourself a few times for quite a while. So why don't you remember that and try to understand for a minute. We'll worry when the time comes to worry."

"When the time comes to worry? I don't know what that means."

"You do though."

"Okay, fine. So I won't do anything. He'll come back eventually."

"Right. Call me if he comes home before I get home from work."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Okay."

"Okay, I have to go, but I love you, Bobby."

"Love you too, Ma."

* * *

Jack wasn't quite sure where he was, but he was keeping, in his head, pretty good track of where he was going. He tried to walk straight simply because that was much easier to remember in order to get back.

He thought about not going back for a little while, and the pros and cons. He'd run away from another foster home once before. He hated being a kid because you stuck out pretty badly when you were alone for a while. Even in stores, just walking around, you tended to get attention because people figured you were suspicious walking around, likely not having money to buy stuff, or that you might have lost your parents.

When he'd run away that time, it took him a whole day of scrounging around on the street to work up the courage and the funds to get on a bus the next morning. The bus driver had studied him suspiciously, but didn't say anything as he paid and boarded. Jack sat in the back of the bus and didn't hear the driver make any calls or anything, but when he got off the next stop, twenty minutes away, there was a police officer waiting for him. Apparently there'd been an APB out with his description.

He didn't stay at that home long anyway.

So now he decided it was probably better just to go back. He'd made that promise with Bobby anyway and so far nothing had happened there that would make a good case for explaining why he'd left.

When he stumbled along a strip of shops, he looked around curiously at the signs and what was available. That was when he noticed a music shop with a bunch of guitars in the window. That made him forget all of his current worries.

He immediately started over.

* * *

Bobby thought that the biggest stress of his day would be the missing Jack. But it didn't end there. He didn't realize just how right he'd been about considering today to be just a really bad day until Angel got home from work.

Bobby was watching an old Schwarzenegger movie on TV, enthralled by the bad plotline and fights, when he heard the front door slam shut.

Immediately he jumped to his feet and started towards the door, in time to catch a glance of Angel pounding his feet up the stairs.

"Angel," Bobby called. He was kind of hoping it would be Jack. "How was work?"

"Leave me alone, Bobby," was Angel's reply and immediately Bobby felt a funny feeling in his gut. That was a different tone in Angel's voice. A tone that meant something was wrong or something had happened.

"Hey, what's up?" Bobby answered, starting up the stairs after him.

"I said, leave me alone, Bobby," Angel persisted, continuing up the stairs.

"Tell me nothing's wrong and I will," Bobby retorted. Angel was heading to the bathroom, and Bobby caught up to grab his arm and pull him back. "Angel."

Angel turned and glared at Bobby, and that was when he saw his face. His lip was cut open, swollen and bleeding. He was cut slightly above his right eye as well and his cheek was bruised and swollen. Bobby noticed blood on his shirt.

"What the fuck, Angel?" Bobby began, in shock. "What the fuck happened?"

"I said…" Angel persisted, his voice less confident now, "I said leave me alone."

"Not a chance. What happened?"

"Bobby."

"For fuck's sake, Angel. Don't try to tell me nothing's wrong. Unless you wanna wait till Ma gets home and then we can all—"

"Ma won't know."

"She won't know? Have you looked in a fucking mirror, pretty boy? Because she is sure as hell gonna notice the second she sees you."

"I'm cleaning up and going to Sofie's."

"No. You're not."

"Yes, Bobby!" Angel insisted. "Yes, I am!"

Bobby pointed a finger at him. "Don't you yell at me. Tell me what happened."

Angel shook his head.

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not gonna get pissed at you for whatever happened, if that's what you're worried about. I just wanna know what happened and if there's any asses that need to be kicked."

"No." Angel shook his head again.

Bobby sighed. "Angel. You're going to tell me. You are going to tell me right now."

"You won't understand."

"Angel, you don't get my day. Jack's been gone for hours, I'm been cooped up here not knowing what the hell to do, and now you come back looking like you got hit by a car. So get over it, and fucking tell me."

"Really? Where's Jack?"

"Don't change the fucking subject."

Angel studied his older brother, who he knew would not budge an inch. When Bobby wanted to he could be the most stubborn one in the house. And Bobby was always taking responsibility, being the 'man of the house', so Angel knew this was not something he could slip away from.

"If I do, you get out of my fucking way, and let me go to Sofie's."

"Ma's gonna find out. And she hates you missing dinner."

"Well, fuck, Bobby. I don't know what else to do…." Angel sounded a bit regretful.

"Just tell me and let's figure it out."

Angel took a few steps, as though pacing for a moment, and then leaned against the hallway wall and gave Bobby a sigh. "I asked you the other day if you had any money."

"Yeah."

"Well, you didn't give me any, and I currently don't got any, and at the same time, I need that money. I told you I needed that money. So with that, you can kind of piece things together..."

Bobby pressed his lips together.

Angel could see Bobby getting annoyed. Tell me and I won't be pissed? Yeah, right. This was definitely going to piss off Bobby.

"When are you gonna get your shit together?" Bobby asked. "Huh?"

"I asked you for help!"

"No. No you didn't. You asked to borrow money."

"And you said no!"

"You need to _stop _hustling people, you understand me? You need to get new fucking friends, Angel. You're always involved in this shit. You dealing anything this time?"

"Bobby. You asked me to tell you what happened, I'm telling you what happened."

"You dealing?"

"No," Angel answered shakily.

"If you lie to me, so help me God…"

"I ain't lying. I don't know what the fuck you want me to tell you, Bobby. You say, get out of it, get out of it. You _can't _just fucking get out of it. It's not like some stupid game that you can just quit, don't you understand that?"

"I fucking understand it," Bobby retorted. "You think I haven't been around the block, Angel? But you think I don't understand why you never seem to learn? You do this all the fucking time. One day, it's not going to be a fistfight, one day it's gonna be a gun. Then what are you gonna do?"

"I know you have money, Bobby. I know you've been saving money. Can't you—"

"Fuck, Angel. Are you seriously asking me this again?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't believe you. You never want to help me! You act all high and mighty. It's not like you never did any shit, Bobby. Don't act like you're some angel. You always come home, acting like you're our _dad _or something now, like you're that much older anyway, like you've been places, and like you're suddenly all clean, when it's you that has the gun and still knocks out anyone that looks at him funny. Because you're so much fucking better than me."

He stopped. A moment of silence passed.

Bobby stared at him hard, working his jaw. "You done?"

Angel just blinked. "Fuck you, Bobby. I hate you sometimes."

Bobby was boiling. This was the lack of patience. This was the inability to be rational. But he held back. He forced himself to hold back. "Wash up. Then come downstairs. You're not going to Sofie's."

"Yes. I am," Angel said stiffly. "Stop bossing me."

"You just got the shit kicked out of you, Angel. You were supposed to be at work, acting straight, and you come home like this? What am I supposed to—"

"I was at work! Things were fine at work. It was when I got _out _of work. Somebody had it out for me."

"Well, maybe you deserved it," Bobby replied. "I'd be pissed if you didn't pay me back either. That's why I don't want to lend you any fucking money."

"You just don't want to help me," Angel said back roughly. "Get out of my face, Bobby."

* * *

Jack came back, six dollars and change in his pocket now that he'd bought a drink to finish on the way back. It was a longer walk back than he'd expected, but it was well worth it considering all the stuff he'd gotten to see at the guitar shop. The guy that worked there was really nice too. He let him play with an old acoustic for a while, nothing at all like most people that he found working at stores.

He came through the front door carefully, pulling open the door with a bit of hesitation. He technically lived here, but he felt like he was walking into somebody else's house that he wasn't supposed to. It filled him with a sense of anxiety and fear, but in his head he knew he was in the right.

When he got inside and shut the door, he heard yelling from up the stairs. Somebody was fighting. That made him even more nervous and he froze for a minute, not knowing what to do. It brought back a collage of old feelings and he swallowed. Maybe he should go? But where would he go? And he'd already made the effort to come back…

Before he could make up his mind, Bobby was storming down the stairs with heavy, loud steps and an irritated look on his face.

Jack immediately decided he should go as Bobby reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You," Bobby began.

Jack was just reopening the front door to try to dart out when Bobby caught his arm and yanked him back inside, next landing a hard slap against the seat of his jeans. It didn't really hurt but it made Jack freeze.

"Where the hell have you been?" Bobby demanded. "All day?"

All those other times Bobby had answered that he wasn't mad. Now he was mad. Jack just stared at him with wide eyes and the inability to say anything. He wasn't sure what to do. Apparently he'd done something wrong.

"Huh? Where do you disappear to for that long a time?" Bobby demanded.

Jack whimpered a little and tried to pull his arm back.

That was when Bobby snapped back to himself and cursed. He tilted his head back in exasperation and sighed. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said.

There was silence as Bobby rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"I'm sorry…" Jack said timidly. What did he do?

Bobby dropped down to a squat and looked up at him, moving to hold Jack by the waist. "No, I'm sorry. It's me that's sorry." Then he realized what he was doing, and he pulled his hands off of Jack and said. "Fuck, you probably don't want me to touch you anyway, huh? I won't if you don't want me to."

Jack just looked at him and took a step back, inching up to the door again.

"It's not you. You were just kinda a factor," Bobby began. "I've been worried about you all day and then _Angel _comes home fucked up. And that's just like the breaking point, you know?"

Jack shook his head. He didn't know. He had no idea what Bobby was talking about.

"You probably hate me too," Bobby muttered. "This is great. Do you hate me?"

Jack hesitated and wasn't sure how to answer. Should he agree with him or should he try to have a positive answer? He had no idea.

"Angel got beat up after work, that's why I'm mad," Bobby insisted. "I know you probably never believe me, but I'm actually not mad at you at all. Well, okay, maybe a little tiny bit. At least I'll be honest."

Jack wished he could disappear into the door he was leaning against. He stared at Bobby's hands, which were now just hanging loosely in front of him, and swallowed back the lump that was in his throat.

"Ma said not to touch you, really," Bobby began. "But you gotta understand that I'm just like… a physical person… I'm not meaning it or anything. And I'd never actually _touch _you, if you get what I mean."

Jack caught noise above them and looked up to see Angel coming down the stairs, looking equally irritated.

Angel looked at them in front of the door and muttered, "Good, the baby's back. Fucking great."

Bobby straightened up and turned to Angel. "We're gonna talk."

"I already told you, Bobby. I'm going to Sofie's," Angel insisted. "And you can't tell me not too."

"Angel."

"I already told her I'm comin', so just fuck off, Bobby."

Bobby saw out of the corner of his eye Jack's hand on the doorknob. With a slight turn and pull the door edged open. Bobby reached out and pushed the door shut abruptly, giving Jack a stern look.

"Nobody's going anywhere. We're gonna stay here."

"I don't _want _to stay here," Angel answered impatiently. "Is this because you hate Sofie, Bobby? Fucking hell. I'll go out the back door then." He stalked off.

Bobby began to follow and then stopped short in his tracks. Jack. He was not letting Jack out of his sight until Ma got home. He was not having him disappear a third time.

Jack was just standing there sheepishly, staring at the floor.

"Come with me," Bobby directed. "And I won't have to pull you with me." He beckoned him forward as he started into the other room. Looking back, he was pleased that Jack was following, even if he was dragging his feet.

"Angel!" Bobby yelled. "You better still be in this house!"

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	21. Chapter 21

3 days 3 updates! I shock myself sometimes. Most stories with 21 chapters would make me not want to read them… Haha, I really hope I'm not scaring anybody away. Thanks again for the reviews and the constructive criticism, I really appreciate it, and it keeps me going. Enjoy the chapter!

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**Chapter 21**

Bobby entered the kitchen with Jack trailing reluctantly behind him. Angel had not yet left the house, he was simply getting a beer out of the fridge.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bobby asked.

Angel cracked open the beer. He had enough fear in Bobby not to run out of the house just yet, but he knew he could still get away with a little bit of rebellion with him. He took a long drink and just looked at Bobby.

Jack was uncomfortable yet stood behind Bobby anyway, however awkwardly. He hated fighting, and he hated being dragged into fighting. Jack didn't understand why people yelled at each other, or at him. He preferred just not saying anything. He figured if you just didn't pay attention, sooner or later the yelling would end. When people yelled back, fights just seemed to last forever. Or got violent.

"Answer me," Bobby said.

Angel held the can in his hand and leaned against the fridge. "What's up your ass about me going to Sofie's?"

"We've gotta talk, that's why."

"I think we're done talking, Bobby."

"No, we need to get done arguing. Then we can _start _talking."

"Well, to stop arguing you gotta stop hollering at me."

Bobby just shook his head. "You wanna ignore everything? You wanna just throw back a beer and run off to your fuck buddy's? That's the way to handle it?"

"Isn't that what you do?" Angel shot back.

"Oh, fuck you, Angel. You don't know what I deal with."

"Nah, for fuck's sake. How could I? Sitting on your ass all day mothering the little kid. Big fucking deal, Bobby. Your life's so hard now."

"Oh, you think that's what I did all day?" Bobby shot back. He turned to point at Jack. "I didn't even know where he fucking _was_ for the whole day."

Jack swallowed, shrinking back. How had this suddenly turned on him?

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you holler at him, then?"

"I'm prioritizing. He I can deal with later. You on the other hand... You I wanna deal with now."

"You're not my father, Bobby. And I thought you were my brother, but a real brother woulda helped me out, and I wouldn't look like I'd been through a meat grinder. So back off."

"Oh, is that what a real brother does? Helps you hustle? Helps you fuck over people? Conveniently loans you money to save your ass? You're lucky I don't belt you one myself."

Angel was quickly drinking his beer. He wanted to leave. "I don't wanna be home when Ma comes home," he said.

"Well, that's a cryin' shame. 'Cause you're gonna be," Bobby retorted.

"You know how it'll be. Just lemme lay low for a little," Angel persisted.

"You can't stand to see Ma disappointed in you, Angel. You just can't stand it, can you? Well if you can't listen to me, why can't you listen to her?"

They continued arguing, one snide comment or criticism after the other, voices rising. Jack didn't know why Bobby had made him follow. He wanted nothing to do with this fight. Especially when Angel crushed and threw the empty beer can down on the floor and starting stalking off towards the back door.

Jack took that moment to try to dart towards the front of the house, but Bobby was quick and caught his arm roughly. "Angel!" He yelled at the same time, now torn between two boys. "Angel, you know I know where Sofie fucking lives! Don't tempt me."

But Angel didn't listen. He just kept going.

Bobby cursed to himself. He would've followed, he would've grabbed Angel and forced him back, forced him to grow up and face things, face the reality of his actions. He wanted him to be the one to explain to Ma what had happened and why he was fucked up.

But then there was Jack, who he was worried would run off again, and who's arm he was hanging onto. He was then remembering he was supposed to give Ma a call when he turned up. He was still holding onto him. He wasn't letting him run.

Jack had tried to pull his arm back and without success had started to just lean back hard, slipping down to the kitchen linoleum, feeling pathetic and trapped.

"I didn't _do anything_," he whimpered.

"Not right now, you didn't," Bobby muttered, glancing towards where Angel had run off. He really wanted to go get him. He would call Sofie's in a few minutes, maybe. Maybe that was the best way to go. He looked down at Jack. "Stop fussing. I only don't want you to run out the front door. I don't need you and Angel going different directions, you get it?"

"I won't…" Jack promised with a broken voice.

"I should tell Ma you're back. I didn't know when you'd come back. But she'll be home after too long. Where were you?"

"Let go…" Jack persisted.

Bobby gave in and let go of his wrist. Jack pulled his arm back to his chest, cradling it as though Bobby had really hurt him or something. Bobby just shook his head. "I thought maybe you left for good."

Bobby walked over to pick up the strewn beer can and toss it into the garbage. He kept his eye on the kid and then walked back over.

Jack was hungry. Now being in the kitchen, it reminded him he'd had neither breakfast or lunch. His stomach was growling. But he was afraid to say anything. He was afraid he would cause Bobby to start yelling again.

"Ma said you'd come back."

"I didn't leave…" Jack pointed out.

"Jack." Bobby gave him an incredulous look. "You were gone for _hours_. Are you kidding? Let's talk about this."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't want to," Jack answered.

"Oh, you don't, huh?" Bobby retorted.

"No." Jack stayed on the floor. He felt safer there for some reason. In his mind he still hadn't done anything wrong. He couldn't understand why Bobby was annoyed with him. Shouldn't he be after Angel?

Angel and Bobby had tried talking too. That hadn't worked out very well.

Bobby looked at him. He was dragging his finger across the linoleum, chin pressed down against his chest, looking miserable. His shaggy hair had fallen in his eyes.

Part of Bobby just wanted to pick him up, sit him on the counter, and force him to have an eye to eye conversation. But he realized that probably was not a very good idea. He wasn't sure what to do. He already regretted how he caught him coming through the front door and had nearly flipped out.

"You caught us at a really bad time," Bobby admitted. "Angel coming back like that. I mean, I was fucking pissed, man, but it wasn't at you, you know?"

Jack said nothing. He was rubbing his finger against the linoleum now for a while and it was starting to hurt.

"I mean, so sue me, I have a short fuse…" Bobby persisted. He stared at the kid, who was obviously not paying attention. "Can you get off the fucking floor? It's like I threw you there or something."

"No," Jack answered.

"Are you just trying to push me or something? I don't get it." Bobby shook his head. "What am I supposed to say? Get up."

"No."

Bobby wished Ma was here to explain how you don't touch somebody in this situation. Because it was beyond him.

"Are you mad at Angel?" Jack asked him.

"Yes," Bobby answered brusquely. He walked over and took a seat at the table, sitting down tiredly. "Yes, I am."

"What'd he do?"

"What doesn't he do? He's all over the place."

"Did you do that to his face?"

Bobby paused. He was shocked by the question. He looked at Jack speechlessly. Then he said quietly and somberly, "Come here."

The way he said it made Jack crawl to his feet and slowly walk over.

"Sit." Bobby pointed to the chair next to me.

Jack wasn't sure. "Are you mad at me?"

"Sit."

Jack sat gently, staying on the edge of the chair. "Are you mad at me?" he repeated. He folded his hands in his lap and stared at them. Then he stared at the bruise on his arm. He wished he was wearing long sleeves instead of this ratty t-shirt.

"A little bit mad," Bobby admitted. "Not like Angel."

"What'd I do?" Jack asked quietly.

"First," Bobby started, "I did _not _do that to Angel. He came home like that. He didn't pay some people back, and so he got what was coming to him. I would _never_, do that. Look at me."

Again, there was something in his voice that made Jack look up at his eyes.

"I would _never _do that," Bobby repeated. "That is my _brother_. So what I have no patience, so what I have a short fuse. I don't do that. The people I fight aren't my family, and Angel knows I'd never do that to him. Never."

Jack just chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Okay?" Bobby asked. "Do you believe me?"

"Then why'd he run away," Jack mumbled.

"Because... Because he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. In a way its good, I have to calm down I guess before I can talk some sense into him. I have the tendency to yell apparently. But he yells back."

Jack was silent. He leaned forward on the table, resting his crossed arms on the edge and setting his chin on this hands.

A moment of silence passed between them.

"Jack," Bobby persisted, talking softer. "Ma told me what happened to you."

"Today?" Jack asked. He wasn't sure what happened to him today.

"No. Not today. Before you came here." Bobby paused. Maybe he shouldn't be having this conversation. But he wasn't sure. He just wanted to try to get Jack to stop looking like he thought he'd belt him one on every turn.

"And basically," Bobby continued. "I know I'm a lot bigger than you and stuff, but I'm not gonna hurt you like you were hurt, and I'm not gonna touch you or anything, and I really wish you'd stop thinking I would. Because Ma wouldn't have had me come home if that's what I was gonna do. Don't you trust Ma?"

"No," Jack answered reflexively. He didn't trust this conversation either.

"She's a saint."

"She's just an old lady," Jack answered. He thought saints had to be dead.

"So if you don't trust her, you sure as hell don't trust me. But you're gonna be here a long time, so eventually you have to trust me. And I know what happened to you, and trust me, bad stuff happened to me too, or else I wouldn't be here."

"I don't want to talk about this," Jack said monotonously. "I'm going upstairs." He pushed back his chair and stood up.

"No," Bobby objected. "No. You're not. And just because I told Angel no and he ran off doesn't mean you can too. Last time you told me you were going upstairs I didn't see you for a really long time and God only knows where you really went."

Jack took another two steps away, eyeing Bobby carefully.

"I said no," Bobby said stiffly. "You're don't have to trust me or like me, but you're gonna respect me."

Jack stared.

"You understand me?" Bobby asked.

"I didn't do anything," Jack persisted.

"This isn't about that. Sit your little ass down."

That tone was harder. Jack sat.

"See you still look scared," Bobby replied. "Why did you run off for so long today?"

Jack shrugged.

This again, Bobby thought. He's gonna go all silent again and there will be no progress by the time Ma comes home. Great. "Where did you go?"

"I just took a fucking _walk_," Jack replied edgily.

"Well, that's fucking _great_," Bobby replied in the same tone. "Why?"

"Why not…" Jack answered, softer this time, like he knew he was being a little too bold. "I'm sorry."

"I don't see a reason to apologize yet. Keep talking."

Jack was silent. He didn't know what was left to say.

"Well, why didn't you tell me you wanted to go on a walk?" Bobby prodded.

Jack paused. "Because." He found Bobby's eyes just questioning. "Because you said… You said do whatever you want just don't burn down the house… And I didn't want to ask you again because…" Because you scare me, he wanted to say.

"I did say that," Bobby admitted. "I didn't mean you to take me so fucking literally."

Jack didn't reply right away. "Are we done?" He got up again.

"You're really something else, huh?" Bobby mumbled. "No, we're not done. Sit. Where'd you go?"

Jack shrugged, sitting slowly again. He pointed in some direction and said, "Towards the stores."

"Oh, that explains a lot," Bobby answered. "But that's harmless enough. I'm not gonna holler at you, or complain about not knowing where you were all day even though it drove me nuts, and I'm not even gonna drag this out and turn it into a huge lecture... I'm just telling you now, to never, ever do that again."

Jack blinked.

"I mean it. Never will you disappear again like that, or else."

"Or else what?" Jack asked carefully.

"I don't know yet," Bobby answered. "Just don't do it."

"You said—"

"I know. That's why I'm not angry. It's always my fault some way or another. I've learned that over time at least…"

Jack was silent again.

"You can do anything you want, but maybe we should go back to asking about it first, okay?" Bobby replied.

Jack nodded, and leaned forward onto the table again, leaning on his elbows.

"Good. See that's easy? We make our little deals. Simple." Bobby reached forward and patted Jack on the back. "You can be easy after all."

"Oww…" Jack moaned as soon as Bobby's hand made contact. He sat up straight and pulled away.

Stunned, Bobby stared at him. "What? What'd I do?"

Jack just had a pained look on his face. "N-nothin'…" he mumbled.

Bobby knew what it was.

He knew damn well.

Bobby set his jaw and pulled Jack up to his feet gently by his arm and turned him around. Jack didn't resist, he just hunched his shoulders a little and stood stiffly, especially as Bobby yanked up his shirt to reveal his back.

Bobby was silent for a moment, holding Jack's arm lightly with one hand and holding up his shirt with the other. Jack's back was darkened with bruises, and it made him sick to his stomach. Some of the marks, he recognized what they came from. Like a belt, for instance.

He clenched his hand around Jack's shirt. Jack just stood there, shaking a little bit.

At that moment, Bobby felt a strong feeling of protectiveness rush over him. No one was ever going to touch this kid again. Never. He wanted to pull Jack into his lap but he knew that would be too much, and so he pulled his shirt back and gave him a gentle, brotherly pat on his backside to let him know he was done.

"That'll never happen again," Bobby said stiffly, sickened. "I'll never let that happen to you again."

And at that moment, Jack almost believed him.

* * *


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Bobby said Evelyn would be home within the hour and Jack took his word for it. They sat on the couch in front of the TV, like the other night, except this was different. This somehow seemed less uncomfortable than before.

Partially it was because he hadn't just been caught stealing.

Partially it was because it was no longer his first day.

But there were other reasons too. And there were a lot of maybes also. For instance, Jack had decided he _might_ actually trust this guy. Maybe, just maybe, this guy was telling the truth about things.

Something seemed wrong about trusting him. But Jack felt like he almost wanted to.

Jack listened to him talk about Angel and how he couldn't decide whether he should go get him or not. Jack didn't really know how to answer. He knew nothing about their situation. He wasn't sure he wanted Angel back right away because that might mean more fighting and more Bobby getting mad. So he stayed quiet.

He didn't really have to answer anyway. Bobby was being pretty good at carrying on the conversation by himself.

Then Bobby moved onto the subject of the girl, Sofie, whose house Angel was apparently at. Bobby didn't seem to like Sofie at all, but Jack wasn't sure why. It was hard to guess without even knowing who she was.

Then Bobby told him how Evelyn was a really good cook and that all he really felt like was dinner.

That was when Jack got the nerve to speak up. "I'm hungry."

Bobby eyed him, as if surprised he was actually talking.

"Really hungry," Jack added softly.

Bobby scratched his head. "Well, whattaya want? We'll probably eat in a couple hours, y'know. That too long?"

Jack shrugged. Once he went two whole days without eating anything. Two hours didn't seem too bad. "Okay."

Bobby eyed the TV for a moment, then Jack again, realizing something. "Wait. You didn't eat breakfast. You eat lunch?"

"No…" Jack admitted.

"Why not?" Bobby asked, despite the obvious reasons in his head that the kid hadn't been home and was only eleven years old. Typical eleven year olds didn't make themselves meals.

"I dunno."

"Well, fuck. Hungry? You must mean starving."

"I guess."

"You guess? I'd've been eating anything by now if I were you. I'll make you something. What do you want?" Bobby pushed himself off the couch and stood up.

Jack shrugged, surprised Bobby was actually doing anything about his hunger.

Bobby sighed. "Just tell me, and I'll make it."

Jack slouched down a little. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what they had. He didn't know what was reasonable.

Bobby watched the kid sit there with hunched shoulders and a brow-furrowed face. "Are you afraid to answer questions? You always just don't say anything. If you don't know what we have, just ask," he said.

"You have cereal?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, but we got other stuff too. Want a sandwich?"

"Okay."

Bobby shook his head as he got up, realizing he could ask the kid if he wanted dirt and the kid would probably just agree because he didn't know any better. Suddenly he was glad he was home. He loved Angel and Jerry but they were so busy right now at this time in their lives. And slightly selfish. He knew they'd be nice to Jack, but they weren't going to spend the time with him that he needed.

Ma came home a little earlier than planned. Just as Bobby was smearing peanut butter messily unto bread, assuming all kids liked peanut butter, she walked in and set her purse down on the counter. "Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing?"

"Hey, Ma," he answered. "How was work?"

"It was fine. Mary had her new baby in, and we spent the whole day fawning over her. I told her I'd do any babysitting she needs, so we might have a baby around here soon if we're lucky. I see Jack is back?"

Bobby nodded, licking peanut butter off his fingers. He rolled his eyes at his mother wanting to baby-sit another child when she had her hands full already. "Yeah, he got back not too long ago."

She eyed him. She knew Bobby. She knew how frustrated he'd been. At the same time, she trusted him. And Jack had seemed fine enough, sitting on the couch inside. "You okay with him then?"

"I didn't get mad at him, if that's what you mean," he answered. "I mean, not very mad."

"So he's fine?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I told him not to just walk off without saying anything."

"Where'd he go?"

"Hell if I know."

She looked at his sandwich. "Bobby, you know we're eating in like an hour…" she said disapprovingly.

He shook his head. "For him." He pointed to the other room in explanation. "I realized he hasn't eaten all day."

"Okay," she replied, moving to close the container of peanut butter. "Well, I'm making dinner within the hour."

"He'll eat it," Bobby assured, noncommittally. He stuck the two pieces of bread together and put it on the plate. Then he hesitated. "I'm sorry about what I said before too," Bobby began, rubbing at his arm awkwardly. "Earlier on the phone."

Evelyn just gave him a look, eyes sparkling. She wasn't sure where he was going with this. "What'd you say?"

"I dunno… I was just bitching about like babysitting and stuff… I was just mad I didn't know where he was, and all. But I didn't mean it. It's okay… I don't mind him at all. I like him."

She smiled at him. "I thought you might."

"And I…" he continued. "I kinda told him what we talked about this morning. Just to tell him that, like, I knew… Do you think that was the wrong thing to do?"

She paused. "I don't know, Bobby. You've always been honest. It's whatever you're comfortable with."

"It's just…" Bobby sighed. "He's really afraid of me. So I'm trying to get him not to be afraid of me. But he doesn't talk much."

"Maybe if you're just patient, Bobby."

"I _am _patient," he insisted.

"Go give him his sandwich, Bobby. We'll talk later."

Bobby picked up the plate and then paused. "We gotta talk about Angel too, Ma…"

"Why? Where is he? Upstairs?"

Bobby shook his head. "Sofie's I think. We had a fight, kinda. He came back all fucked up again, from work. Someone jumped him after work."

Evelyn stared at him, pressing her lips together. She remained calm though, nothing at all like Bobby had reacted. He didn't understand how she never looked worried. She always waited until she had more information. "Is he okay?"

"Looks like hell." Bobby shrugged. "Pride wounded, I guess is the worst of it. I dunno. Looked like they got him pretty good."

Evelyn patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, Bobby. Just worry about Jack. We'll take care of Angel later."

"If you want me to go get him. For dinner or whatever. I can go get him," Bobby persisted.

"It's fine, Bobby. We'll handle it later. Go take care of Jack." She gave him a look. "Honestly, Bobby, don't take everything on your shoulders, okay? Stop holding everything in."

"I'm not."

"Okay, just go check on Jack then."

Bobby took her advice and walked out of the kitchen, moving back towards the family room. Jack had drawn his knees up to his chest on the couch, but when he saw Bobby he immediately sat up straight again, dropping his legs back down to sit properly.

"No one cares if your feet are on the couch," Bobby told him as he rolled his eyes. He handed him the plate. "I didn't get you a drink. You want a drink?"

"No," Jack answered, taking the plate and eyeing the food happily.

Bobby sat back down, deciding that even if peanut butter made you extremely thirsty, he'd take the kid's word on it. He watched the kid eat and realized he did everything quietly and carefully. He took off the crusts of the bread but then ate them anyway. He was very methodical.

"Want more?" Bobby asked when the sandwich was nearly done.

"No," Jack answered. Jack said no a lot.

"Was it good?"

Jack nodded.

"See, I'm a good cook too," Bobby joked. He leaned over to take the plate from him and just set it on the end table beside him.

* * *

When Jerry arrived home in the next twenty minutes, Camille was with him. Bobby loved having Camille around and got up to give her a hug when she and Jerry entered the room.

"Camille," he said happily.

Camille smiled as they hugged. "Bobby Mercer. I feel like it's been ages. How've you been? Taking care of yourself?" She patted his upper arms teasingly. "Still working out, I see, you big Meathead."

"Yeah, you just wish your boyfriend had a little bit of this…" Bobby flexed his arm jokingly.

"Oh, fuck you," Jerry laughed. "I can take you."

Bobby put his fists up in a jesting boxer imitation. "Right, here, cupcake. C'mon. Let's see." He punched the air.

"All brawn, no brains," Jerry muttered.

Bobby just smirked at him. He was about to say something else but Camille had just caught sight of Jack on the couch and grew excited. "Is this him?" she said, looking at Jerry in question.

"Yeah." Jerry nodded. "Jack, this is my girlfriend Camille."

Jack just swallowed and didn't say anything. He was kind of on edge at there now being four people in the room. Camille had sat down next to him and had her hand out, like she wanted him to shake it.

"Hi, Jack, I'm Camille," she said. "Jerry told me about you."

She was smiling and looked friendly enough, but Jack just stared at her hand.

"I'm sorry," Bobby began. "Camille, he's really shy."

"That's okay," she answered. She dropped her hand and continued to smile at him. "Honey, I understand, this is all new to you. And if these boys give you any trouble, you let me know. I can control that one pretty good now." She indicated Jerry, who rolled his eyes at her. "And Bobby's just a big teddybear. So you just tell me if you need anything."

"Okay, mother hen," Jerry responded. He knew she loved kids and was amused at how fond she immediately was of his new brother.

Camille ran her hand through Jack's shaggy blondish hair before she stood up again. "I mean it, anything you need, Jack."

Jack didn't dislike her. He didn't like her either.

"I have to talk to Evelyn, too," Camille said as she started for the kitchen. "I haven't seen her in a couple weeks either, and here I am inviting myself to dinner."

"You know it's fine," Jerry said as she left.

Jack ran his hand over the hair that she'd touched. Now it was just three.

"So you came back, huh?" Jerry gave Jack a smirk. "You had old Bobby here kind of fired up for a while."

Jack didn't answer. How did taking a walk turn into such a huge deal that everybody knew about?

Bobby sat back down heavily on the couch. "Remember how I said today was just going to be a terrible day?"

"Uh-oh." Jerry crossed his arms. "What else happened, man?"

"Angel."

Jerry laughed. "What'd the screw-up do now?"

"You gotta see his face and ask him yourself."

Jerry's smile faded. "No shit, what happened?"

Bobby glanced over at quiet Jack for a moment and then replied, "We'll talk about it after dinner. We might have to follow-up on some stuff."

"'Kay, no problem, man," Jerry answered. "Where's he now?"

"His whore's."

"Bobby," Jerry objected.

"Sorry. She's no good for him," Bobby muttered.

"Drop it."

Bobby looked up at him and smirked. "Okay, little brother. Dropped."

Jerry just laughed. "Sometimes I do got more sense than you, bro."

"Never." Bobby looked at Jack again. "Change the subject, Jerry."

"So what'd you and him," Jerry asked, "do all day?"

"This."

"Exciting, man. Real exciting."

"Don't you know it."

"Never went to Dan's?"

"No. Maybe tonight." Bobby rubbed his eyes. "Once we figure out Angel's deal."

* * *


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

"I'll come."

Bobby looked at Jack incredulously. Whenever Jack said something, it usually followed a period of utmost silence. So whenever he spoke, Bobby looked at him like he couldn't believe he'd just opened his mouth. Bobby was used to his looks being misinterpreted, and when Jack's eyes immediately flitted to the ground, posture taking on a more defensive stance, he realized the look on his face probably didn't seem like surprise, but something else.

He should probably work on that.

"Jack, you should stay here," Bobby said simply. He was a little surprised at Jack wanting to go anywhere with him. He thought after the day they'd had, he'd be glad to get rid of him for a while and stay with Ma.

Jack thought for a minute. They were done with dinner, and Bobby and Jerry were helping to clean up the kitchen by unpacking the dishwasher and packing the dirty dishes. Camille and Evelyn were inside chatting and catching up. Bobby had just mentioned to Jerry that they'd go get Angel and "settle things" when Jack decided to speak up.

"Why?" Jack asked. He wasn't sure why he wanted to go. In fact, earlier he'd been glad when Angel left, because then the yelling had stopped for the most part. Now he wanted to go with them to get Angel? It didn't make sense in his head now, but it had made sense just minutes ago, and he stuck to it.

"Because," Jerry interjected for Bobby. "Bobby and I just need to take care of some things."

"What things?" Jack asked.

"Ma hasn't seen you all day," Bobby began. "She'll be here."

"I can come," Jack insisted.

Bobby and Jerry exchanged a look. "Look," Bobby said, "all we're doing is getting Angel and talking to him. Remember before?" He looked at Jack's big eyes. "You wanna be there for that again?"

"What're you gonna do?" Jack asked quietly.

Bobby sighed. "Nothin'. I don't mean it like that."

"What happened before?" Jerry asked Bobby as he put some dirty plates into the dishwasher. He gave him a concerned look.

Bobby shook his head. "Nothin' man. Just me 'n Angel yelling our heads off, that's all. Before he ran out."

"I want to come," Jack said, softly but clearly. Stubborn, his last foster mother had called him, like a mule.

"Why?" Bobby gave him a look.

Jack just looked at him for a moment and then stared at the plate in his hands. Jerry had given it to him to put away, but he wasn't sure where it went, and he wasn't really tall enough to reach some of the cabinets.

He didn't know exactly why he wanted to come. But if he was gonna maybe trust Bobby, then that was the only person here he almost trusted, and he wasn't going to let him leave him.

Bobby shook his head in exasperation at the lack of response. "I'm glad you're speaking up and all, but I have to say no. You stay with Ma. She won't want you comin' with us anyhow."

"I want to come," Jack repeated.

"So you've said. I have no idea why."

"_Because_," Jack insisted.

"I don't _want _you to come," Bobby responded stiffly. "Understand? Now drop it."

Jack set his jaw, staring at the linoleum. He paused for a minute. Then he let go of the plate in his hand. He watched it, like in slow motion, fall towards the floor, then shatter with a crash. It wasn't as loud a crash as he'd hoped for. But it was enough.

He just stared at the mess.

"Oh boy," Jerry muttered.

"Are you kidding?" Bobby asked Jack. "Did you just do that on purpose?"

Jack swallowed. Suddenly that seemed like it had been a terrible idea. He'd just been mad. But now Bobby seemed to be getting angry again. For someone that promised to help him, Bobby certainly got mad a lot. Maybe trusting him was a little premature.

Bobby took a step towards him and Jack panicked. There was a glass on the counter by him. When Bobby got closer, he pushed it off the counter and it hit the linoleum too, breaking into what seemed a million shards.

"You better stop it," Bobby snapped at him, "or you're gonna get it."

"Don't hit him," Jerry warned.

"I'm _not_, Jerry," Bobby retorted irritably as he grabbed Jack by the arm and pulled him away from the mess. Jack's sneakers crunched over the broken pieces, and he tried to pull away from Bobby as he had done previous times. "Stop…" Bobby persisted.

Jack kept pulling, lowering himself down like he'd done before in the kitchen, right before when Angel had left. Bobby's grip felt like it was cutting off circulation.

"Are you stupid?" Bobby asked, yanking him up. "You're gonna cut yourself." He tried to pick him up, taking him beneath his arms, but Jack kicked him. Bobby just grunted, unphased, and hauled him off the floor, nearly dragging him over to the table.

Jerry just watched quietly like he was watching Bobby try to handle a stray animal. It made him kind of nervous, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't one to interfere. Bobby shoved Jack down onto a chair, hard enough that Jack winced.

"You trying to test me?" Bobby hissed at him. "I'm being as patient as I can. You think this is how to get me to take you with me? Jesus Christ. That's _not_ how you ask for something."

"I'll clean it up," Jerry offered, moving to the pantry closet in the corner to find a broom. He found one in the back and pulled it out.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bobby demanded from Jack.

Jack sniffled a little. He realized he'd made a big mistake, and he felt the anxiety pulse through him. "I didn't mean it, really..." he implored. "I didn't. It slipped. I'm sorry, Bobby…"

Bobby had never heard him say his name before and so the apology and the way Jack said his name, kind of pleadingly, stung him a little bit. "Slipped right off the counter _and _right outta your hand…" Bobby muttered.

"Yeah…" Jack agreed.

"It's just a plate," Jerry said as he swept up the pieces, assuming Bobby was pissed and feeling kind of bad for Jack. He knew Bobby's temper wasn't really something to mess with. "We've got a bunch."

"I'm not mad at him," Bobby objected. Jerry didn't believe him. He could tell when Bobby was pissed. "I just want to figure him out."

Jack didn't believe that he wasn't mad at him either, especially when he tried to stand up and Bobby pushed him back down onto the seat. Jack began to whimper a little bit. Maybe he crossed the line. He tried to brace himself for whatever was coming next.

"Don't cry," Bobby warned him. "Don't you dare cry."

"Just let him be for a minute," Jerry objected.

"I am," Bobby replied. "I'm not doing anything to him."

"You're scaring him."

"I'm not _doing _anything!" Bobby replied in exasperation. He looked at Jack, who was sitting there stiffly, hands gripping the sides of the chair tensely. He was sniffling a little bit but it wasn't exactly crying. "Am I scaring you?"

Jack looked up at him and asked shakily, "Can I come?"

Bobby stared at him for a minute, and then, despite himself, smiled a little. He let out a small chuckle. "Wow. You really don't know how things work, do you? You should be asking me not to wallop you, that's what you should be asking." He turned. "You hear him, Jer?"

"Yeah…" Jerry was trying to brush all the pieces into a pile. He wasn't sure where a dustpan was to sweep it all into. "Make sure nothing is breakable around him and tell him no again."

"Yeah…" Bobby said thoughtfully with a smirk as he bent down to rub at his shin where Jack had kicked him. He was pretty sure he'd have a nice bruise there but he didn't say anything. To be honest, despite how angry it got him, he was now a bit amused. It kind of reminded him of himself. Jack having the nerve of asking again was what made him calm down.

"Yeah, Jack, you can't come. Sofie has a lot of breakables," Bobby began.

Jack made a face. He didn't think it was at all funny. He started to get up again, only to be pushed back down by Bobby.

"You sit," Bobby said. "We gotta finish cleaning up the kitchen. Then you're staying with Ma."

"I can't…" The anger had passed, surprisingly quickly, and Jack wanted to try again.

"Why?"

Jack fell silent.

"Why, Jack?" Bobby asked.

"Can't I come?"

"No. The answer is no," Jerry said. "Maybe you have to write it down, Bobby."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Jerry. He gets it." He walked over to the sink to finish putting away some dirty dishes so that he could put the dishwasher on. "He definitely gets it."

Jack sat there sullenly, watching Jerry clean up his mess and Bobby put soap into the dishwasher. He wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to go for another walk.

After a few minutes they were near done. "I'm gonna get Camille. Can we drop her off before we go?" Jerry asked.

"Yeah. Don't tell Ma where we're going though. Just say we're going out," Bobby said, lowering his voice. Ma had amazing hearing. "I don't want her to worry."

Jerry nodded. "Yeah."

When he left, Bobby looked at Jack, who was still sitting down where Bobby had put him, quiet and solemn. While washing his hands in the sink, Bobby said, "I won't tell Ma you broke her dishes if you agree to stay here while I'm gone."

Jack didn't say anything.

Bobby glanced at him as he dried his hands on a dish towel. "You listening? I never told her about the other night either, you little bandit, so you can trust me."

Jack was quiet.

"You've been out enough today," Bobby continued. "And normally you can come places, but tonight is different. I'm not sure what'll happen tonight and you're too little to get caught up in it."

That was when Jack remembered Bobby carried a gun. He wasn't sure why he carried it, or if he had ever used it, or any details like that. He wasn't even sure if it was loaded, but he guessed that it was. He realized he had no idea who this person was, this person he was almost trusting.

"Understand?" Bobby persisted. "I can't go with all of us, that's too much to worry about. And if you come, honestly, you're liable to just piss me off. It's not the right place."

"Where are you going?" Jack asked in a little voice.

Bobby leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "We'll find out once we get Angel."

"So maybe no where?"

"Maybe," Bobby admitted. "You hated driving with me and Angel this morning. So now you get to stay home."

"I don't want to."

"Ma will be much nicer to you than I've been," Bobby answered. "I think we have ice cream too. Do you want ice cream?"

Jack sulked a little. "I'm not a little kid."

"Neither am I, but I love ice cream. Ma always bribes me with ice cream," Bobby replied. "And usually, it works."

Jerry came back in the kitchen, with Camille this time. "Ready to go, Bobby?" he asked.

"Yeah, one second," Bobby replied. "I'll be out in a second." He reached into his pocket and threw Jerry his keys. When they left, he studied Jack for a moment and then walked over to him.

Jack stayed seated, clenching his fists a little, as Bobby approached. When Bobby got closer and leaned against the table, eyeing him, Jack looked the other way.

"Listen to me," Bobby said gently. "I'm leaving. You're staying. If you give Ma a hard time, I'll hear about it. I don't want you going anywhere. Or ask her if you do, alright?" He frowned. "Answer me."

Jack sighed. "Okay."

"Okay, good boy."

Jack watched him leave sullenly.

* * *

"He always like that?" Jerry asked as Bobby got into the driver's seat of the car. Jerry sat in the passenger seat and Camille was in the back.

Bobby almost wanted to ignore the question and tell Jerry to sit in the back of the car with Camille like a gentleman, but he was sick of feeling like the chauffeur and having an empty front seat. "I dunno, he's only been here how long? How am I supposed to know what he's like."

"Well, you watched him all day," Jerry answered as Bobby pulled out of the driveway.

"All of ten minutes?"

"Please, you had a lot of time with him."

Bobby shrugged.

"Well, is he always that difficult?"

"He's…" Bobby hesitated. "He's interesting."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "Seems like a piece of work, that's what he seems like. Ma's got her hands full."

"He's fine," Bobby replied. "I think he'll turn out fine."

Jerry raised his eyebrows. "How high is your blood pressure today because of him?"

Bobby laughed. "Ain't that bad. If he was that bad, my gun would have a few less bullets."

"Bobby!" Camille objected. "That's terrible!"

"Aw, sweetheart," Bobby looked at her in the rearview mirror, "I'm just teasing."

"Don't you bully him," she warned.

"I think he bullies Bobby," Jerry laughed.

Bobby smirked. "Right."

"Well, whatever. I think he's precious," Camille said.

"Precious… So's a pitbull puppy," Jerry muttered.

Bobby gave Jerry a look. "I think you're forgetting where you came from, Mr. Perfect. He's really not bad at all. His rep's not like yours either. His problem's not all what he did, but what people did to him."

"Like what?"

Bobby shook his head. "Forget it."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "Okay. Are we picking up Angel first or dropping off Camille?"

"Either way."

"Drop me off first," Camille said. "If that's okay. I know I'm a little farther and she's right there, but I don't want to see you all go at it tonight, if that's alright with you."

"That's fine," Bobby asked. "I don't blame you."

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

**Okay I'm on a crazy roll with this. I might even put out another update later today/tonight. We'll see how much further I get. But I figure, if you feel like writing, take advantage, right?**

** I want to take the time to individually thank all my reviewers. I hope people don't mind that I don't really do that. I know a lot of other authors do. But your reviews really do keep me going, and I love hearing back from you.**

** Enjoy!

* * *

**

**Chapter 24**

**

* * *

**

Evelyn was really nice and everything, but Jack couldn't help but wish he was out of the house. When he was neglected he felt like he wanted more attention. When he got this attention he felt like he wanted to be neglected.

Maybe it was just not being used to the direct eye contact, or the innocent questions and conversation. When you were slapped around it was still attention, and it didn't need any involvement, and then it was over. He wasn't used to this interaction part. Maybe that's what had messed him up at the other places.

At least he didn't have to look at her this time. Because Evelyn's eyes really looked right into your soul and it made him squirm. There was some show that she liked on, so they both were sitting on the couch while she every now and then spoke and asked questions.

Eventually the inevitable question of where he'd gone during the day came up. Evelyn didn't say it with any sense of anger or annoyance. Not at all like Bobby had asked him about it.

"Dunno."

"Why didn't you tell Bobby?" she asked.

"He was tired of my questions," Jack answered.

"Bobby's a big grump sometimes," Evelyn admitted. "But it's only on the outside. You can trust him, and even more, he wants you to be able to trust him."

Evelyn continued to talk, and without any sense of anger or lecture, she still managed to make Jack feel kind of guilty about disappearing for so long and worrying people. She talked to him how Bobby had been through rough times too, but how he'd grown up a lot and was trying to change.

It came through in her voice how much she really loved her boys, and Jack felt kind of weird. He'd never heard anybody speak so fondly about anybody before. He kind of remembered his mom, and her boyfriend, and how they would say they loved each other sometimes, but it was usually when they were really messed up on something. Like pills, or booze, and they usually passed out soon after. In fact, Jack for a while had associated saying 'I love you' with meaning you were really high and going to pass out.

Jack had assumed no one would even notice that he was gone. He was kind of surprised it had turned into such a big deal. And if it was such a big deal why no one was doing anything about. Like, they were just talking to him about it. Was that supposed to teach him not to do it again?

She wasn't even scolding him. She was really just talking. Then she started to compare him to Bobby, and he just kind of zoned out.

She wasn't even nice in the way that you could take advantage of her. She seemed too smart for that. But she wasn't being cunning either in an untrustworthy nice. She was the kind of nice that'd you'd feel bad for crossing. He wasn't sure what to do about it.

"I broke a plate," he admitted, interrupting her. He didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to admit that.

She paused, giving him a gentle look. "Honey, that's okay. I break something almost every week. And those boys with their hockey. Can't tell you how much broken glass I've picked up."

"Bobby said he wouldn't tell you."

"Well, Bobby was either teasing you or trying to make you feel better, I guess."

He wouldn't add that he'd broken it on purpose. He wouldn't tell her about trying to steal money the other night either. He'd talked enough for tonight. This is how talking got him into trouble.

Bobby and Evelyn were a lot alike. They were both able to carry on conversations mostly by themselves. It was almost impressive.

When the phone rang, Evelyn found the cordless beside her and picked it up on the second ring. "Hello?"

Anthony's voice came through on the other line. "Hello, Evelyn. It's Anthony again, I'm sorry about calling you. I know how busy you are."

Evelyn glanced next to her at Jack, who was simply staring at the TV, and got up to talk privately. She moved into the dining room quietly. "That's fine, not a problem at all. If this is about the other night, let me apologize again."

"No, no, no," he objected. "Kids will be kids. I'm used to him doing much worse, it's fine. Has he burned down your house yet?"

"No, he's doing just fine…" she answered with a slight chuckle. She wanted to say she'd gotten used to fires from when Bobby was younger. She remembered the treehouse incident with a smirk but said nothing.

Anthony continued. "Any trouble with him wandering off or disappearing? Moods?"

"He's doing just fine," Evelyn repeated.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it…" Anthony's voice seemed to be hiding something. He paused after he spoke, as if he was hesitating to say what he meant to next.

Evelyn picked up on it immediately. She knew this phone call was more than just a check-up. "What's this about, Anthony?"

He paused. "I'm calling to give you some information," he began. "I don't mean to worry you, in fact I hesitated even calling you at all. But then I realized it would be better to be careful, and I know you, and I realized I should just tell you."

Evelyn frowned, sitting down at the dining room table. "Alright, Anthony. You have my curiosity raised, that's for sure. What is it?"

Anthony caused. "Well, Evelyn, we are concerned about Kevin's possible... knowledge of Jack's whereabouts."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know, and this all seems extremely unprofessional, I'm aware. And I'll also take responsibility. It seems this individual has been making quite a few phone calls recently, and in one particular case was able to falsify enough leverage to gain some information."

"What do you mean by falsify enough leverage?" Evelyn persisted.

Anthony sighed. "I mean threaten. He threatened one of my colleagues. Her family. Apparently believably enough, and with enough information, that it convinced her to give up some crucial information and—"

"You've got to be kidding me, Anthony."

"I wish that were the case. Now, I'm very sorry Evelyn. The colleague I referred to is being dealt with properly, as that is an extremely dangerous and unprofessional decision to make. It completely violates our mandates and confidentiality requirements."

"How did you find this out?"

"She eventually came forward," he admitted.

"Eventually? So this didn't happen today?"

"No, Evelyn. It happened a few days ago… Now, I'm not telling you to immediately be worried. I'm—"

"Is there a threat, Anthony?"

"I don't know," he said softly. "I'm just informing you, so that you can be aware. Keep your eyes open. I don't know what Kevin's motives are. I don't know what he intends to do. For all we know, he just wanted the information and that's all."

"I find that hard to believe." Evelyn thought to herself. This didn't happen today. This happened a few days ago. Without them knowing, anything could have happened. She realized how Jack had been gone for so long today and she'd thought nothing of it. Her pulse started to go a little quicker.

"I know… Trust me, Evelyn, I know. But I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. I didn't want to scare you or the boys."

Evelyn sighed. "I'm really not sure what to say to you, Anthony. If you have any other information…"

"I know. You will be the first on my list to contact, Evelyn. I mean that." Anthony paused. "Can I talk to Jack for a moment?"

"I don't think it's right to tell him," Evelyn objected. "Not right now, Anthony. And if anyone is going to tell him, then I'd prefer—"

"No, I agree," Anthony insisted. "I just wanted to check up on him. I agree that it's premature to tell him anything."

"Alright," Evelyn agreed. "I'll get him in just a minute. Just promise me that you'll keep me updated, Anthony."

"You have my word, Evelyn."

Jack looked confused when Evelyn offered the phone to him. "It's Anthony," she explained, and immediately his stomach dropped. Why would he be calling? What'd he do? He gave her a look, like she would know something, but she didn't catch it.

She put the phone in his hand. "I'm just going to put on some tea. You take your time."

Jack watched her leave and frowned, putting the phone up to his ear. "Why are you calling me?"

"Hello, Jack," came Anthony's painfully polite voice. "I was actually calling Evelyn but I wanted to get a chance to talk to you also."

Jack paused. "What did you tell her?"

"What should I tell her, Jack?"

"What did she tell you?" Jack asked. There had to be some reason for this phone call. Phone calls like this were usually bad news.

"Is there something she should tell me?" Anthony answered. "What have you been up to?"

Jack hated the way he just returned a question with a question. Whenever Jack did that he got corrected and told it was rude, but apparently Anthony could follow any set of rules that he wanted. "Nothing," Jack retorted.

"Have you been behaving?" Anthony asked. "Evelyn's such a great lady, Jack. I really hope this works out for you."

"Don't you get more money if I have to go somewhere else again?" Jack asked.

"No, Jack. That's not how it works. In fact, I really hope this is your last home, and you know that. So I just want to make sure you're being good."

"Okay."

"Why did you call me the other night, Jack?" Anthony asked. "It was a bizarre hour."

Jack set his jaw and paused, thinking of what to say. "I have to go," was all he could come up with. Then he hung up the phone and crossed his fingers that Anthony wouldn't call back. If he didn't, he could always say that he got disconnected, but that was a hard fight.

He waited a moment, staring at the phone. It didn't ring. Maybe he was safe.

He sat tiredly on the couch, wishing he was somewhere else. But where, he wasn't sure.

* * *

more soon! 


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25

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**

Jack sat outside in the dark on the front step long after Evelyn had said good night and gone upstairs. He waited for Bobby-like instructions on not to go anywhere, but didn't get anyway. He almost felt like he mentally had though, considering how guilty she made him feel earlier before about disappearing.

He sat there quietly, smoking and watching cars drive by in the night and going over the day's events in his head. A lot had happened that day. And then there was Anthony's phone call. He really wanted to know what he'd said to Evelyn about him.

When a car pulled up in the street and parked in front of the house, he recognized it as Bobby's car in the dim streetlight. Jack just watched as three emerged and he realized they must have convinced Angel to come back. They'd been gone for a pretty long time.

They were talking in hushed voices as they walked up the driveway.

Angel approached the doorstep first, muttering, "Fuck!" when he saw the boy sitting there. He'd seen the form of somebody and was startled at first before realizing who it was.

"What?" Bobby asked in concern, immediately drawing his gun from his back, where it was tucked into his waistband.

"Nothin'," Angel said, giving Jack a glare. "Sorry. It's just the kid."

Bobby walked up behind them and gave Jack a look as he shoved his gun back into his waistband. "It's late for you. Put that out." He pointed to the cigarette that he knew Jack was hiding with his hand behind his back.

"Put what out?" Jack asked.

"Don't make me have to tell you again. Put it out."

"Ain't you a little young to smoke?" Jerry asked him.

"No," Jack replied. "And I can't put it out. It's my last one."

"Put it out," Bobby persisted. "Now."

Jack tossed it aside, next to the sidewalk in some grass. He watched Bobby move to step on it and put it out completely. Bobby seemed to be in a bad mood; it was written all over his face, and his voice was impatient. Maybe he was always in a bad mood.

"It's late, I'm going to bed…" Jerry said, a solemn look on his face as well as he walked up the steps, around Jack, and opened the front door.

"Does Ma know you're up?" Angel asked Jack.

Jack shrugged.

"Well, then go to bed…" Angel replied. "I want to talk to Bobby."

Jack set his jaw. Why should he have to leave and go to bed? And what right did Angel have to tell him what to do? He looked at Bobby, who was looking off at his car, seeming to ignore both of them. Jack noticed his shirt.

"Why is there blood on your shirt?" he asked.

"Huh?" Bobby turned his head back to look at him. Then he looked down at his shirt where there was a red stain. He'd probably have to throw out the shirt. He ran his hand over it. "No reason."

No reason? Jack didn't get that.

"Bobby. Tell him to go to bed," Angel persisted. If Jack didn't listen to him yet, maybe he listened to Bobby. Most people listened to Bobby.

"You should go to bed too," Bobby returned. "You're in a terrible mood."

Angel set his jaw. "Gee… I wonder why." He shook his head. "But I wanted to finish this with you. And I want to talk out here. Tell him to go to bed."

"It's over for now."

"It's over for _tonight_."

"Well, for now, tonight, whatever." Bobby shook his head. "I think we're done for the night, Angel. We've talked all I can talk about it for tonight."

Angel had a sullen look. Jack wondered if his face would look better in the morning. He still looked pretty beat up. He wondered how Evelyn would react to that. It could go both ways. Maybe she was used to him looking like that. He wondered if that would make her yell. Did anything make her yell? He was curious.

Angel was heading inside, with Bobby now walking up the steps behind him. "C'mon, Jack. Inside. It's late."

"No."

Bobby stopped next to him and looked down at his disheveled hair. Angel had just stepped inside and wasn't waiting for them. "I mean it. Please don't test me now. It's not a good night."

"I don't want to come in."

"Jack. I mean it."

Jack said nothing.

Bobby sighed. "I'm counting to three. And you better get up. One…."

Jack looked up at him in surprise. "You said you wouldn't hurt me."

"I'm _not _going to hurt you," Bobby persisted. "But you are pissing me off." He shook his head. "Fine. Okay, if you want to stay outside, stay outside. Who am I to tell you what to do, right?"

Jack set his jaw as Bobby brushed passed him and walked inside. Why would anybody count to three in a threat if they weren't going to do anything? Part of him wanted to follow him, but he was afraid. The other part of him wanted to just sit out here. Think things out more. He wanted to find out what had happened between the three that night, be he didn't feel brave enough to ask.

* * *

Bobby felt kind of bad leaving Jack outside. Mostly because he kept thinking to himself how easy it would be to just give the kid a couple slaps and make him come inside. If it were Angel or Jerry he would probably do just that, but with Jack it was different.

With Jack he was trying so hard to be patient and not just succumb to his normal reactions. When he felt his anger swell up and felt the urge to smack him, he reminded himself that it was probably exactly what Jack expected him to do. And he could be better than that.

Bobby collapsed on the couch and kicked off his sneakers. He laid his gun on the end table and stretched out his legs. He was exhausted. Between being home, and having Angel in trouble, and now having Jack to figure out, he was both mentally and physically exhausted. It had been quite a night. Calming Angel down at Sofie's, getting on his side, and then finding the 'friend' that had gotten him into the whole mess…

Tomorrow would be stressful too, as soon as Ma saw Angel's face. That would be a whole new mess.

He heard Angel in the kitchen for a few minute, getting a drink or something. Then the younger brother came out long enough to say good night.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Bobby," he said gently.

Bobby just shook his head. "It's fine."

"It's like every time you come home I've got some kind of mess."

"Man. I said it was fine." Bobby gave him an earnest look. "Why would I start lying to you at this point? I mean it. Go to bed."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay. We'll talk for real then tomorrow?"

"You gotta talk to Ma tomorrow too."

"I know."

"What time's work tomorrow?"

"I got the afternoon shift."

"Good." Bobby nodded. "Cool."

"Night."

Bobby watched him leave and then just sat there for a few minutes. Angel was a good kid. This would all be straightened out. He hoped. It was a matter of keeping Angel in line. Making him grow up a little bit. That was the hard part.

Bobby sighed tiredly and shifted his gaze to the front door.

He'd been waiting to hear the door open and close to make sure that Jack came inside. He wanted to just go to bed and forget about today, but he realized the least he could do was make sure that the kid came inside.

He'd give him ten minutes.

Bobby turned on the TV for a few minutes, watching some late-night reruns. Then he got up and got a glass of water from the kitchen, leaning on the counter as he drank it and wondering how late he could get away with sleeping tomorrow. That was if he slept. Recently sleeping had just been a problem, leading to constant fatigue.

It seemed like it had been at least ten minutes when he put his glass down in the sink and decided to head out to the front.

He opened the door slowly, wondering what he'd do if Jack wasn't there and wasn't inside. But he didn't have to wonder long as he found Jack right away.

Sleeping.

Jack was sitting on the bottom step, slumped over with his head resting on his arms, leaning onto the upper landing. Bobby just stared at him for a minute, looking out at the dark street for a moment, before crouching down beside him.

"Hey." He poked Jack in the shoulder.

Jack immediately woke up and jolted up into a sitting position. He pulled something out of his pocket and flipped it open, and Bobby immediately recognized it as a sharp pocket knife. When Jack realized it was Bobby beside him, he paused for a minute, looking confused.

"Hey," Bobby objected. "Give me that."

Jack quickly closed the knife and moved to shove it back into his pocket but Bobby quickly snatched it from his hand. Jack tried to grab it back but was too slow. Bobby pocketed it.

"That's not yours," Jack said.

"No," Bobby agreed. "Safekeeping."

"I need it."

"For what? Are you a boy scout?"

Jack punched Bobby in the leg. "It's _not yours_," he insisted.

"You don't need it," Bobby retorted, pushing his hand away. "Ma doesn't like weapons around the house. In fact, really doesn't like them." He waited for the criticism that he carried a gun with him. Ma was never pleased when he did that. But Jack was too tired to make the connection.

Jack rubbed his eyes tiredly. "But it's mine."

"Then I'll hold onto it for you." Bobby stood back up. "You were sleeping out here. Get up. It's time for bed."

Jack hesitated for a moment but then caught Bobby's eye and stood up right away. Bobby did not look like he'd handle any protests well right now.

"You sleep anywhere, huh?" Bobby mumbled. "Closets, sidewalks…" He started inside and Jack followed him. "Can't be comfortable."

"Wasn't," Jack said. "I had a weird dream."

"Really? 'Bout what?" Bobby turned to lock the door behind them.

"That someone was watching me."

"Out there?"

"Yeah…"

"Doubt that. Although we do have some really nosy neighbors…" Bobby answered. He pushed Jack towards the stairs. "You go up. I gotta clean up down here quick."

* * *


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26

* * *

**

Jack woke up with a scream caught in his throat. He held it in and sat up panting, blinking desperately in the pitch black room to figure out where he was. When he realized, it settled him slightly, but not enough to make his heart stop racing.

He wondered if he'd made any noise. That would be two nights in a row of waking people up in the middle of the night. That couldn't be good.

His clothes felt sticky and he realized he was covered in sweat. It must have been quite a dream. He was having trouble remembering it though. It was just bits and pieces. And certain pieces made him stop wanting to think about it.

He shivered. He didn't know whether it was because of his open window or something else.

He wasn't going to sleep well tonight.

* * *

"Bobby. I need to talk to you."

Bobby turned from putting bread in the toaster to look at Evelyn. "Morning, Ma." He glanced past her. "I saw Jack's sleeping on the couch. I didn't know whether to leave him there."

"I saw. He's fine."

"He went to bed upstairs last night though," Bobby replied. "At least when I told him too. I don't know from after I went to bed what he did." He studied her. "What do you need to talk to me about?"

"It's about him."

Bobby frowned. "What'd I do to him?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "It's not anything like that."

"Oh." Bobby gave her a look. "What'd he do?"

She chuckled. "Nothing, Bobby. Neither of you have done anything as far as I know. And hopefully that's the case."

"Well, then what?" Bobby asked. He eyed the toaster. He'd forgotten to press down the toast. He reached for the lever and did that now. "I think he likes me better. He wanted to come with me yesterday."

"You don't have to worry, Bobby. He'll like you," she agreed. "Just give him time."

"I guess." Bobby wasn't so easily convinced. "How was he last night?"

"Fine," Evelyn answered. "I just talked his ear off, like I do to all you boys. Don't know if he minded. He's pretty quiet."

"Yeah, no kiddin'." Bobby paused. "So if this isn't about me, and this isn't about him doing something… Then… What exactly is this?" He frowned. "Is this a serious conversation or just one of your typical conversations?"

"Typical?" she echoed. She shook her head. "I don't know what you mean by that, but I'm afraid it's a serious conversation, Bobby."

"Okay." He waited.

"And I'm telling you, because right now you're the one that I'm trusting with Jack. Because I think you are, and if not already, will be, very important to Jack…"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Ma, I've known him like two days and I'm no better than a lousy baby-sitter right now."

"Not the point, Bobby…" she persisted.

"So what is it?"

She sighed. "Anthony called me."

Bobby's mind tried to figure it out. Then his eyes widened a little. "Ma, are they taking him away from you? Already? What happened?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that, Bobby…" Evelyn replied.

"Then why don't you just tell me?" he persisted. "Instead of just laying out all these random parts."

"I'm trying to, Bobby." His toast popped up, and she turned her head to look at it. Bobby automatically moved to grab his plate from the counter and grab the toast.

"Keep talking, Ma," he answered. "I can listen at the same time."

Evelyn watched him move to grab butter and a knife before going to sit at the table. She began to talk quietly, explaining to Bobby why Anthony had called her last night and what news he brought up.

Bobby listened for a moment and then had to interrupt. "Okay, okay. Who is Kevin?"

"You remember what I told you about Jack's family?" Evelyn replied. She sat beside him at the table and glanced at the doorway as though she expected Jack to wake up and walk in any moment.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed, smearing butter generously all over his toast.

"The man who took him after his mother's death. His mother's boyfriend. That's Kevin."

Bobby nearly dropped the knife in his hand. He stared at Evelyn with narrowed eyes. "So wait… The fucking pervert. The one who did all that stuff to him? That guy knows where he is?"

Evelyn paused and then nodded slowly. "Possibly, Bobby. Possibly. And Anthony was saying not to worry, but it's hard not to. I mean—"

"How does that just happen?" Bobby replied. "I mean, there's laws. And even the occupation has laws. I mean…"

"I know, Bobby. I was just as shocked as you were."

Bobby pushed his chair back and asked stiffly, "Where's this Anthony guy's number?"

Evelyn looked at him. "Bobby…"

"I'm serious. I want to talk to him. Where's his number?"

"Bobby. No. Sit down."

Bobby shook his head. "No, Ma. If Jack got to somehow call him at four o'clock in the morning, then I damn well have the right to call him right now."

Evelyn looked at him calmly and pointed at his seat. "We're not done talking, Bobby. Sit down, and let's talk about this."

Bobby worked his jaw and then dropped back down into his seat. He hated arguing with Evelyn. "Fine, okay. So what are we supposed to do about it?"

"Let me just tell you what Anthony said to me…" Evelyn continued. "Bobby, I realize you're frustrated."

"Frustrated?" Bobby ran his hands through his hair. "Ma, it's just that yesterday that kid disappeared for _hours_, and I thought nothing of it other than he's just wandering around. He could have been gone. And last night I come home, I won't even tell you what hour, and he's just fucking sitting out on the front step, like nothing."

Evelyn sighed. "I know, Bobby. Trust me, I know."

"And he doesn't listen. I bet he'll disappear today."

Evelyn shook her head. "No, Bobby. He won't."

"Why do you say that?"

"Won't you be with him?"

Bobby felt lost. "I can't. I can't have every second… Ma, you agreed with me yesterday that it's impossible for me to be with him every second of the day…"

"I know, Bobby. Still, I don't expect that. He'll learn where he needs to be."

"What did Anthony say?"

"Well…" Evelyn hesitated. "He of course said there's no immediate threat. That we just should be aware of our surroundings and everything…"

"Does Jack know?"

With a deep breath, Evelyn answered. "No. He doesn't."

Bobby shrugged. "Probably better."

"Yeah, I'm not sure, honestly." She paused. "I don't know what to do. I want him to feel safe here. I don't really want to tell him that he could be found. Because in my mind, he won't be."

"Isn't there anything…" Bobby objected. "I mean, how is that guy just walking around after everything he did?"

"It's more difficult than that," Evelyn answered. "Not only is he on probation, but there's a restraining order against him. And thanks to Megan's Law—"

"I know all that crap, Ma. I want to know what they can really do."

"Right now…?" she answered slowly. "Right now it's all hearsay, honey. I'm sorry. But I just needed to tell you. Because I know that you'll be with Jack, and—"

"Thanks, Mom. As if today couldn't top yesterday…" Bobby muttered.

"Sweetheart…" Evelyn looked at him firmly. "This will be fine. As long as we're all on the same page, you understand?"

"I've learned that the house could be burning down and you'd still tell me it would be fine, Ma…"

She smiled at him and was about to reply, but Bobby interrupted,

"It's fine," he said. "I'm sorry. It's just nonstop since I've been home. You guys definitely saved up all the drama for me." He paused. "Speaking of which. Talk to Angel today."

She nodded. "I will."

"You got to go to work?"

"In a little bit. I have to run upstairs, make a couple phone calls, and I'll be on my way." She pushed back her chair and stood. "I'll wake up Jack on my way upstairs. Check on him in just a bit, okay?"

"Sure."

She moved towards him and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you, Bobby. I love you."

"Love you too…" he mumbled as she left the kitchen.

It took him a couple minutes to collect himself and digest the information he'd just gotten. It was hard to believe and pretty unnerving. Out there was the person that Evelyn had described to him, who had done these horrific things to a little boy, and who now knew where this boy was? And was potentially looking for him?

It didn't make sense.

How did someone let that happen?

He resisted the urge to find Anthony's number again. Ma was right to stop him. His impatience and irrationality right now would not get them anywhere. It was hard to even tell if it was Anthony's fault. And he after all had been the one to warn then.

Bobby finished his toast, wondering if every breakfast would be ruined now that Jack was here. Yesterday with the story of his past and now this… It seemed never ending.

He brushed some crumbs off his lap and got up to put the plate in the sink.

He sighed and figured he should check on Jack. Was this going to be another day chock full of figuring this kid out? He was already exhausted by it. He didn't know how Ma stayed calm.

He had just convinced himself that his goal for the day would be to stay calm all day when he walked into the next room to view Jack on the couch and nearly exploded.

"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing?" he demanded. He'd intended to start their day off by asking him why he was sleeping on the couch but that was all soon forgotten.

Jack looked startled at the outburst, and his eyes just kind of widened as Bobby's voice filled the room. He looked down at his hands.

Where he was holding a gun.

Bobby's gun.

"I…" he started. He panicked when Bobby started towards him, because this seemed like a huge deal, and raised the gun, haphazardly aiming it. Maybe it would make Bobby stay away.

Bobby didn't seem very phased by the motion but stopped a few feet from him, looking incredibly angry. "Jack. This is the maddest I've been in a while. Give it to me."

That did not give Jack any incentive to put down the gun or even say anything. He wasn't at all sure what to do now. What had started out as sheer curiosity was now turning into a huge situation.

"You left it…" Jack began to object.

Bobby swallowed as he realized he had indeed left it out on the end table last night. Ma would kill him if she knew. "That's not the point."

Jack studied Bobby and then decided to be risky. "Give me my knife," he said.

"Are you fucking _kidding _me?" Bobby persisted. "Are you really saying that to me right now?"

Jack shut his mouth. Maybe he shouldn't be saying anything right now.

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "I mean it, Jack. Don't try to push me right now. It's too early, I'm too stressed out, and you are touching something I am _very _protective of. Do you understand me?"

Jack just stared at him.

Exasperatedly, Bobby moved forward and yanked the gun out of Jack's hand. The safety was on and he took the chance that Jack had no clue how to take the safety off. Stuffing the gun into his pocket, he glared. Try to calm down, Bobby, he reminded himself. "Okay, listen to me," he started edgily, sitting down next to him on the couch.

Jack swallowed, and jumped up, cursing himself a second later because as usual that didn't work. He found himself roughly jerked down into Bobby's lap, a tight arm around his waist.

"Don't even," Bobby began, turning the kid so he could look him in the eye. Jack's eyes were on his hands. "Playing with a fucking gun and pointing it?"

"I didn't," Jack objected softly.

"Oh, you didn't? Let me refresh my memory…. No, I'm sorry. You _did_."

"I'm sorry…" Jack squirmed and tried to pull out of Bobby's grip. In a way he wished he would just spank him or do whatever it was he intended so he could get up and forget it. This talking seemed like it might turn into a big conversation, he did not feel like being held for that long. "Just do it and let me go," Jack insisted tiredly.

"Do what?" Bobby answered.

"Whatever you want to do to me and let me go…" Jack responded in an imploring tone. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not going to do anything to you," Bobby retorted. To be honest he wanted to beat the tar out of the kid, and he was in the perfect position to. But he knew too well to do that. "Other than tell you to never, ever touch the gun again."

"It was there," Jack mumbled. "I didn't know."

"What made you think picking up a gun and pointing it at me was a good idea?" Bobby retorted. "Doesn't take a brain surgeon."

"Are you mad?" Jack asked timidly.

"Yes, I'm mad." Bobby looked at him. The kid was still staring down. "Did I not just tell you I'm mad? It's not every day I get a gun pointed at me in my family room."

"Is it loaded?" Jack's voice was soft.

"Yes, it's fucking loaded," Bobby retorted.

"Okay…" Jack answered in almost a whisper.

"Okay?" Bobby answered. "Okay? That's all you can say?"

Jack started to sniffle. "I don't know what to say…" His voice broke. "I said I was sorry…"

Bobby started to feel bad, because he was obviously the one making him cry. He thought about what Evelyn had just told him again, and then about Jack being gone yesterday and outside last night, and realized he had to make sure he didn't direct his anger the wrong way. It was a lot of combined anger right now.

"Ma doesn't even like me having a gun…" Bobby said gently as he loosened his hold and reached up to wipe a couple stray tears off of Jack's cheek. "Imagine how mad she'd be, at both of us, for this. That's all I'm mad about."

Jack was quiet. He tried to push Bobby's arm off of him.

"And it can be dangerous too," Bobby continued. "Just tell me you won't do it again."

"Okay..." Jack said shakily as more tears dripped down his cheeks.

Bobby felt bad. He figured he'd made his point. "Hey, I know what… Or at least this was cool to me the first time I touched a gun… I'll take you somewhere to shoot it, how's that? Then no more curiosity."

"You said not to touch it…" Jack pointed out with a sniffle. "I'm not tricked."

"No, I'm not tricking you. Don't touch it unless I let you. Since it's mine. But it can be cool to shoot one, and I'll take you to do it somewhere if you want sometime."

Jack nodded quietly.

Bobby tried to wipe off the kid's face again. Ma would kill him now. Knowing he left the gun out. Made the kid cry. Told the kid he could shoot the gun sometime. He'd be dead if Ma knew.

Bobby let Jack off of him because he kept pulling and finally asked his original question. "Why'd you sleep down here?"

Jack was quiet. They were done with the gun thing now? Or was he still mad? He wasn't sure. He went to sit on the other end of the couch.

"Jack." Bobby looked at him. He caught his eye. "Why'd you sleep down here?"

"Weird dream," Jack admitted.

"About what?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno."

The thought of Jack sleeping next to his gun kind of bothered Bobby. But he didn't say anything. Instead he got up and said, "I'm making scrambled eggs. Want some?"

"No."

"Well, I'm making some for you anyway," Bobby muttered. Jack always said no.

Today would be another stressful day. He could tell.

* * *


	27. Chapter 27

This is getting really long… Yikes. I think after this one I'll try short stories. Fight the long-windedness.

* * *

**Chapter 27**

Angel was just about to walk into the bathroom to take a shower when he caught Evelyn coming back out of her bedroom. "Morning," he said softly.

"Morning, honey," Evelyn replied. She studied him. "Bobby said I'd be surprised, but… Yeah, that's a surprise."

Angel ran a hand over his bruised face gingerly. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"No?" She eyed him carefully. "Angel, why do you do this to yourself?"

Hearing Evelyn sigh at him like that made Angel feel sick. "I don't know. I'm sure Bobby told you everything, huh?"

"Just a little."

Angel shook his head. "He needs to stop acting like he's my father."

"Angel, you know he's just trying to look out for you…Bobby's very protective of you and Jerry. You can't fault him for that."

"It's not like he's perfect."

"He would be the first one to agree with you, honey. But he knows what you're going through. He's just trying to help you out."

"Yeah, I bet…" Angel rolled his eyes. He tried not to get impatient. He was terrible in the morning, and he hoped she wasn't hoping for a real conversation right now. He'd be better after a long shower and some breakfast. Ma put a lot more faith into Bobby than he did. He knew Bobby was trying his best, but still, it didn't give him a right to be so patronizing.

Evelyn just raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm sorry, Ma…"

"Will they mind you looking like that at work today?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Hope not. There's not much I can do about it, I guess. They shouldn't care. I can't help it."

"Very true." She paused. Angel knew she was trying to choose her words and just waited for the inevitable request. "We're going to talk about this later today, okay, Angel? This has got to stop."

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah… Fine."

"I mean it, Angel."

He nodded and gave her an earnest look. "I _know_. And we'll talk about it. I promise."

"Okay." She rubbed his arm and smiled at him. "It'll all work out… And don't worry about Bobby interfering. Just give him a break and you'll see he means well. Okay? I'll see you later, sweetheart."

Angel nodded and dragged his feet towards the shower.

Evelyn sighed as she started downstairs and realized things would never be simple with her boys. But that was why she loved them.

She looked for Jack and Bobby again before she left and found them in the kitchen. Bobby was at the stove finishing up making scrambled eggs while Jack was sitting sullenly at the table, head resting in his hands. She noticed his flushed cheeks and remnants of tears and gave him the once over. He appeared okay…

"I'm leaving in a minute," she said, walking towards Jack first. He didn't even seem to notice her there. She reached over to run her fingers through his hair gently, but he didn't even look at her. "Jack?"

Jack rubbed his nose and blinked, looking up like he just realized someone else was in the room.

"You alright, honey?" she asked.

He nodded and said nothing.

"Okay, well I should be home a little early again today. I'm sure you'll have fun with the boys. Right, Bobby?"

Bobby looked up from the stove. "Yeah. Of course."

Evelyn gave Jack one more concerned look before walking over to give Bobby a kiss on the cheek. "Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye," Bobby answered, focused on his frying pan and shoving the scrambled eggs around with a spatula.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, eyeing him carefully.

Bobby gave her a quizzical look. "With what?" He caught her concerned glance at Jack and shook his head. "Oh. Yeah." He rolled his eyes. "He's good."

"You sure?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. We'll survive."

She studied him and then nodded. "Okay. Call me if you need anything."

"Yup."

* * *

Bobby expected the day to be stressful. He expected more drama, more tears, more misunderstanding. But it went relatively well. Considering it mostly consisted of going to the grocery store, coming back, unpacking groceries, and driving Angel to work, he felt pretty lucky. 

Jack was quiet throughout the day, offering a few words or responses whenever he was forced to give them. He followed Bobby around, sometimes interestedly, and other times like he felt he had no other choice. In general he stayed in his own, quiet world. Bobby tried to prompt him out of it a few times, but often he grew too impatient to keep trying. He figured Jack would come out of his shell when he wanted. He threw hints of boldness out every now and then.

Like when he refused to get out of the car until the song on the radio was done. When Bobby ignored him and turned off the car, killing the radio, Jack just glared at him. After a moment, Bobby realized that carrying Jack out of the car was not a mature option, and that he really wouldn't move, so he sighed and turned the key back in the ignition, waiting as patiently as possible and then cutting the engine as soon as the song ended.

"Happy?" he'd muttered, getting out of the car. But he thought Jack actually was, and could swear he almost caught a small, brief smile on the kid's face as he followed Bobby out of the car.

* * *

The week went well also. It was busy and it seemed to fly by. Bobby spent as much time as possible with Jack, having the persistent goal to win his trust and at the same time kind of enjoying the attention, although usually hidden, that he got from an impressionable and complicated kid. Jack was like a pet, something to take care of. He knew Ma hated when he called it a project, but in a way it was. It made Bobby think a lot, and he was starting to realize more about why Ma had paired them together. 

Jack went through the week blindly, understanding the stress he'd brought to the Mercers in their first few days together and kind of afraid of what the consequence of that was. Anthony's phone call scared him, and he really thought it had to do with his behavior, or some change in his placement. He tried to keep quiet and just follow instructions, and for the most part, it seemed to work. The week was so busy with random things that it was easy enough.

He knew he'd get restless in a little while, but he thought putting up a good front for a week would suffice. He could pretend he was trying to settle in. Although he still hadn't unpacked.

Bobby started to almost forget about the phone call from Anthony and the information Evelyn had shared with him. He spent almost all day with Jack, and sometimes his eyes drifted out, scanning the horizon and just wondering… But after a while he wondered if maybe the worry was futile.

But Bobby was also well aware that things never stayed simple at the Mercer household for long.

* * *

_I don't like this chapter. But I really am trying to keep things moving and throw in some action soon. Thanks again to all the reviewers. You all are so wonderful. You make me keeping typing away, like its an addiction!  
_


	28. Chapter 28

I'm still planning it out in my head. And for too fast/too slow, backing away/steering towards, there's usually a method to my madness. And a lot of it is just a style I'm stuck in also. This chapter will be different, so we'll see how it flows. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 28**

Jack awoke to the unthinkable.

There was a noise in his room that startled him awake. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and his heart was pounding. He wondered if it was another nightmare. He'd been having nightmares every night. He tried to remember what it would be about.

That was when he focused on a figure looming above him.

Kevin.

He opened his mouth to scream and immediately Kevin clamped a hand over his mouth, pushing his head back hard against the pillow. Leaning in with a sneer, the man said in a whisper, "Not a sound… Get it?"

Jack felt like he was going to have a heart attack. The narrow, dark as coal eyes. The scraggly, unwashed hair. The pale, thin face. He was tall. He was over six feet. It all flooded back like it was yesterday. It had, after all, barely been a year. A sense of dread overwhelmed him and his eyes moved towards the shut door.

He tried to scream through the hand but he couldn't. He could barely breathe. So he did the next thing that he could think of and sank his teeth into the hand.

Kevin's face lit up with pain, but he didn't let go. "You're going to pay for that…" he hissed. "You're going to pay for all of this…"

This couldn't be happening. Jack started this think that maybe he was still dreaming. In a lot of dreams he couldn't move at all, no matter what was happening. He kind of felt that way now. He hadn't been this scared in a long time.

He found himself yanked out of bed. Kevin pulled him close, keeping a hand over his mouth, and holding his other arm firmly. Jack tried to pull away and make noise. He kicked the man and pulled at his arm, but Kevin was just as he used to be, resilient.

"Stop it," Kevin demanded harshly, keeping his voice low. He pulled Jack up by his arm and lifted him impatiently, holding up against his hip with a tight arm. "We're going to get out of here. And we're going to get out of here without a sound."

Jack hoped they would go right out his bedroom door now. He could make a lot of noise in the hallway. And those stairs creaked. He wondered how Kevin had even gotten in without anybody hearing him.

It was then he realized that Kevin was carrying him towards the open window. Jack swallowed. This couldn't be good.

"You always did leave the window open…" Kevin said. "It was no wonder I couldn't pay the heating bills."

The window was open wide. And leaning against the outside, Jack saw a long ladder. He hoped Kevin would go out first; he could then slam the window shut and lock it. Lock him out.

But Kevin had no intention of going first. He was already nearly pushing Jack out the window. When Jack struggled, Kevin squeezed him tight.

"Don't make this _any _harder on yourself," Kevin whispered harshly. "I'm taking you back where you belong. If you don't cooperate, I'll just throw you out there. You're coming whether you like it or not."

Jack set his jaw, hesitating.

Kevin pushed him forward towards the window. "Now, Jack," he said.

He'd uncovered his mouth, pushing him towards the target escape. Jack took that chance to try to yell. He opened his mouth, starting to yell 'help', when Kevin furiously backhanded him before he even got a second of noise out.

Jack whimpered, quieting his yell and rubbing at his cheek. Kevin was glaring at him.

"You're really going to get it tonight, let me tell you. Someone made you difficult, huh? Well we'll fix that. Now, get out of the window, Jack."

Jack's mind was churning through every idea in his head. He could find nothing. He stared at the window and winced as Kevin prodded him again. Was this it?

He had little choice.

"You make a noise on the way down…" Kevin began. "And I'll push this whole ladder down so fast you won't even know what happened."

Jack felt his heart pounding in his chest so loud he thought it would jump right out of his body. He began to climb out over the window sill and Kevin helped him, keeping him steady and helping him turn around to step down and grip the first rung of the ladder.

They were big steps down. Kevin was right behind him, taking two steps where Jack would take one. Jack tried to climb as quickly as possible, shivering in the night air in just a t-shirt and sweatpants. When he reached the bottom, he jumped off and began to run.

He'd only run several feet when Kevin just about tackled him. Jack hit the grass hard, breaking his fall with his hands and knees, and tried to scramble up. It was hard to outrun a six foot something man when you were eleven.

"Why are you testing me?" Kevin demanded. He pushed him back down on the grass. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and breathed heavily, face first in grass, and winced as Kevin sharply slapped his backside. It was just like Bobby had when he came back from disappearing, except this actually hurt. There was a difference.

"Don't try that again," Kevin said. He hauled the kid to his feet and started swiftly walking towards the street, pulling him along. "We don't have time for this tonight. I have rope in the car if you need me to tie you up."

Jack shook his head miserably.

He hated to be tied up.

Kevin had parked about a block away as not to be right in front of the Mercer's house. Jack recognized his beat up gray Chevy van right away. Kevin walked around the passenger side first, opening the door and pushing Jack inside. He slammed the door shut and started around the other side.

Jack immediately tried to open the door, but he couldn't work the handle. He pulled at it impatiently.

"That door doesn't work from the inside anymore," Kevin told him as he got into the driver's side of the van. "Don't pull the handle off."

Jack started to breathe heavily, sitting in the seat defenselessly as the engine started and Kevin began to drive quickly down the street. Jack looked out the window behind him. It was only several days ago that he'd been driving towards that house, not wanting to be anywhere near it. It seemed bizarre to him how much he longed to be back there.

Kevin looked at Jack critically as he stopped briefly at a stop sign. The kid looked the same, a little bit older, but nearly the same as he had last year.

"You still look just like your mother…" Kevin said softly.

Jack glared at him briefly, shuddering at the reference to his mother.

"Whatever you told the authorities… The doctors…" Kevin started. "I don't know why you would do that."

Jack was silent. He'd barely told anybody anything. He didn't have to. He didn't want to, but it hadn't mattered.

"I helped raise you, dammit." Kevin looked over at him. "Is that how grateful you are? After your mother passed away… I was the one there for you. We got through it together."

Jack wondered whether you could actually use the term 'passed away' when someone hanged themself. He stared straight out at the road. Kevin was kind of driving over the painted lines, going in and out of the lane. Jack hoped he would get pulled over.

"We had fun together…" Kevin persisted. "I have to say it was a shock to me, and really hurt, when people were banging on my door. Blaming me for things you did to yourself."

Jack tried to ignore him. He didn't remember any fun.

"You've been hard to track down… I mean, they've moved you around a lot in the past year, haven't they? I've been trying as hard as I can… In the beginning… I didn't know. But after a while, I figured I have as much a right to you as anyone else. And after several phone calls over the past few weeks, I seem to have talked some sense into people."

Talked some sense into people? Jack didn't really understand. Who had he called? What did they say?

"You moved around a lot because they didn't want you, right?" Kevin asked slowly. "I mean, it was their choice, right? How long do you think you'd have been at this new place anyway? I'm pretty much doing you a favor… You can't inconvenience other people. I'll be the only one now."

Kevin quieted enough after a little while, and within ten minutes, Jack noticed they were pulling up to a motel.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"We can't go home just yet…" Kevin explained. "Just in case."

"In case of what?"

Kevin sent him a look. "Nothing for you to be concerned over." He pulled around the back of the motel and parked in front of room 107. He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger's side.

"Get out," he said when he opened the door. When Jack hesitated he grabbed his arm and pulled him out. He kept a firm grip on his arm as they approached the room, reaching into his pocket to pull out a key.

The room smelled awful. Jack made a face as soon as they entered it. It was a smoking room but there was something else. It wasn't like it was a great place to be and so he imagined it could be a variety of things.

Kevin walked into the room first, and Jack lingered in the doorway. He'd already tried to run a few times unsuccessful, but it didn't mean he would stop now. When Kevin was a couple feet into the room, putting the key back into his pocket, Jack began to inch out the door, taking a few steps.

Kevin yanked him back inside by the back of his shirt, nearly throwing him to the floor. "Haven't I told you _enough_?" he asked heatedly. "Do you know what you've put me through?"

"Please let me go…" Jack began, sitting on the floor anxiously. He couldn't believe he'd once liked this man. It seemed really long ago, when his mom first had him around and he used to bring him toys and candy. Back when he was stupid and around five years old and thought everything was the way it was supposed to be. That was before a lot of stuff happened.

Stuff? Was that all he could say about it? Just round up all those memories... Just push them all into this 'stuff' category? He figured it was better than actually thinking about it.

Kevin was busy locking the door. He turned the lock and then pulled the chain lock across as well. "Let you go?" he echoed. "This isn't about letting anybody go. They took you from me. I finally have you back. And you're here giving me this hard time? Trying to run off every damn second?"

"No..." Jack answered.

"No is right. I really don't think you understand." He looked down at Jack, shaking his head. "You are still exactly the same..."

Jack took a deep breath, realizing his world was falling apart around him. There had to be something to do. There would have to be a chance to make a phone call or go out the door.

He looked up and watched Kevin unbuckle his belt, pulling it out through the loopholes in his pants. He realized what was coming and began to prepare himself. In the back of his mind he realized Bobby had lied. But it was stupid for Bobby to make a promise like that. And it was stupid of Jack to trust him.

"Get up," Kevin directly stiffly. "I'll make you understand."

* * *

_tbc _


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Jack lay in bed quietly. Kevin was snoring contently beside him and Jack quivered at the thought of him. There was only one bed in the room.

He ached. He felt violated. He felt lost and confused and like he was back, trapped in the nightmare of one year ago. He couldn't sleep. He just stared up at the ceiling, listening to the snoring, and wondering what to do.

He wished Bobby hadn't taken his knife. If he had it on him, he would have tried to slice open Kevin's throat.

His eyes shifted to the door. It was double locked, with two chairs in front of it, stacked on top of each other. Kevin had done that on purpose, knowing Jack would try to leave, and knowing he was also a very light sleeper and would hear any kind of commotion. Jack just couldn't understand—couldn't Kevin see that if he wanted to get out of there, away from him, so badly, that _something _was wrong?

He used to think nothing was wrong. He was shocked when he was suddenly pulled out. That in itself had made him feel ostracized. They told him he was brainwashed and looked at him sadly, murmuring "Poor baby", talking about how they would help him. And at first he thought it was weird, kind of crazy, that he was then put under a microscope and scrutinized. But he couldn't say he'd missed Kevin. He'd almost turned him into a blurry nightmare.

The door wouldn't work. Not tonight. There was a phone on the nightstand. But Kevin was between him and that option. He was kind of scared to get out of bed without having a clear plan. He got out of the bed before to go use the bathroom and noticed Kevin's eyes watching him the whole way.

He really didn't want that again.

He couldn't sleep either. He could just lay there with this sick, gut wrenching feeling.

* * *

"Bobby."

Bobby looked up from a bowl of cereal grumpily. He had not slept well. He studied Jerry from his seat as he replied, "What."

"Have you seen Jack?"

Bobby shook his head. "All I've seen is this bowl of Cocoa Puffs."

Jerry shrugged. "Okay, well Ma told me to wake him up when she was leaving for work, but he's not in his room. And I figured you were usually the one who knows where he is."

"Not his keeper…" Bobby murmured, pouring more milk into his bowl.

"Coulda fooled me…" Jerry responded.

Bobby rolled his eyes. He couldn't help that he and Jack seemed to have more in common. Or at least had spent more time together. Jerry spent his spare time with them, but he was busy himself, especially with Camille. They were getting more and more serious. Additionally, Angel had spent his last week trying to "fix things" and be responsible at work. Bobby had just inadvertently taken Jack under his wing.

Bobby rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Check his closet."

"I did."

"Under his bed and stuff."

"I did. Did you realize he still hasn't unpacked?"

Bobby leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Yeah, I know. He will. Just give him time."

"How do you not unpack after a week?"

"I don't know." Bobby shrugged. "It takes a little longer than that to feel like you're sticking around, I guess…"

"Yeah…" Jerry just shook his head. "Where else?"

"He sits outside sometimes. On the stoop."

"I looked there too. Front and back door."

"Well, I don't know…" Bobby sighed. "He's around somewhere." He paused. "You should make me breakfast. I made you breakfast yesterday."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "I don't _want _to make you breakfast."

"Relationships are about give and take, Jer. You've been _taking _a lot."

Jerry shook his head. "I don't even know what you mean by that."

Bobby just smirked at him. "Yeah, yeah."

"Besides, you're already got yourself a decent breakfast. Even though it does have a million grams of sugar in it."

"Mostly calcium…" Bobby said thoughtfully. "I put a lot of milk in there."

Jerry just rolled his eyes. Bobby got in the weirdest moods sometimes. Right now he could tell he was just exhausted. "You sleep okay?"

Bobby's brow furrowed. "I don't know. Not really. It's more I wake up exhausted."

"But you slept?"

"It's like restless sleep…" Bobby explained as Jerry sat down. "Like my mind is too active." He shook his head. "Don't sit down and give me that look like you're gonna analyze me, little brother. I don't need your psychology."

"I don't know the first thing about analyzing you," Jerry retorted with a laugh. "I wouldn't even want to try."

"If you look into the mind of the monster…." Bobby began, his voice low and serious, but eyes dancing with mischief, "you might _become _the monster."

"You really crack yourself up, don't you, Bobby…?"

"Sometimes," Bobby agreed.

Jerry paused. "Camille said you seemed different."

"Well, I have been working out…" Bobby flexed his arm. "Arms of steel. Did she notice?"

"I think the words she used were 'more responsible'."

Bobby cringed. "Whoa. Seriously?" He dropped his arm down. "I must be losing my touch."

"I told her that the phrase she was looking for was 'sleep deprived' and that as soon as you rested up, you'd be in as much trouble as ever."

"You have so much faith in me."

"Of course." Jerry smiled.

"I figured I'd come home for a while without giving Ma anymore gray hairs. Nothing wrong with that, you know?" Bobby asked. "With you and Angel keeping up the pace and all. And a new little one to keep you on your toes."

"Sure."

"Did you check the bathrooms and everything?"

Jerry frowned. "Huh?"

"For Jack," Bobby persisted.

"Oh. Yeah. I did." Jerry paused. "Speaking of which... Wednesday was kind of funny."

Bobby just raised his eyebrows. "It depends from whose perspective."

Wednesday, Angel had walked into the bathroom upstairs, expecting it to be Jerry in the shower and needing to ask him a question. However, it wasn't Jerry in the shower, but Jack, who thought he'd locked the door, not realizing how unreliable the locks actually were on those doors upstairs. At the sight of someone else entering the bathroom while he was showering, Jack had begun screaming.

When Bobby ran upstairs to the screaming, he was in time to catch Angel walking out the bathroom, yelling back, "Big deal, I almost saw your dick! It's not like we all don't have one too!"

When Bobby heard the story, he smirked a little bit, but left Jack alone. He figured he'd be okay, even when it did take him thirty minutes to come out of the bathroom. When he did come out, he tried to tease him, saying, "You know no hour in front of a mirror will make you any prettier, princess", and "I didn't know we had a sister, tying up the bathroom" but Jack wasn't having it. In fact, he just ignored him for a good hour.

"I still think it was funny," Jerry answered. "Besides, he'll get used to the lack of privacy around here."

Bobby gave him a look. "Yeah, he will, but for now he just needs his space."

Jerry's smile disappeared slowly. "Yeah, I guess… I mean, Ma only told me real little about what happened to him before… He… Uh… I don't know."

"Yeah, don't worry about it…" Bobby shook his head. "We'll earn his trust eventually. But walking in on him naked isn't probably the best idea."

"Yeah. Leave it to Angel…" Jerry sighed. "But, anyway, I really don't know. I kinda looked all over for him."

"He hides sometimes," Bobby admitted. "Sometimes I even think it's by accident. But I'll take a look around in a few minutes for him. Don't worry about it."

* * *

An hour had passed and Bobby started to get a little concerned. He couldn't find Jack anywhere in the house. He started looking casually after breakfast, but then when he didn't turn up, started looking more seriously. He'd even started yelling his name to try to see if maybe he was behind or beneath something he hadn't thought about. He didn't know why he'd be doing that, but sometimes Jack did get into moods.

"Why would he disappear like this?" Bobby demanded from Jerry, who'd been helping him look. "_Again_?"

"I don't know," Jerry replied. With a shrug he added, "Like I said, you're the one that knows him best at this point."

They sat on the couch, out of ideas and tired.

Bobby shook his head. "I don't know either. I don't get it. And, I mean, we made a deal but I just can't believe…"

"A deal?" Jerry frowned. "What kinda deal?"

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, trying to explain. "Well, it was the first night that I met him. I guess the first night he was here. And to make a long story short, we had a bit of a weird first encounter, because I caught him wanting to split in the middle of the night… And we just kinda talked… Well, I talked, mostly. And he made a deal with me that he'd give this place a week, and then… And then, well, he could make up his mind if he wanted to stay or not."

"So you basically told him that after a week he could run away?"

"No… No, not at all…" Bobby shook his head. "Is that what it sounds like? I was trying to convince him that after a week he'd have no reason to run away… Like, he was scared at first, of course, but… What's he had to be scared of now?"

Jerry made a face. "I don't know. You holler an awful lot."

"No, I don't," Bobby replied defensively. "I don't at all."

"I don't know. Maybe not that much, but you do get awfully uptight sometimes."

Bobby set his jaw. "Not with him. There's nothing for him to run from. Ma's always perfect. Other than the shower thing, you guys haven't done anything to him…"

"Nobody's hit him. Or touched him."

"Exactly," Bobby said. "I mean… I was rough a few times… But…" He hesitated. "I never really _hit _him. I kinda pulled him a bunch of times… But like, I never hurt him."

"I know," Jerry agreed.

"It wasn't real hitting, what I did, at least," Bobby continued, frowning. "Like, I've given him a few slaps, or whatever. But it's more like… taps. Like this." He flicked Jerry's arm. "Nothing."

Jerry shook his head. "Bobby, he likes you best, so I don't think you're the one to be worried about."

"I guess…" Bobby mumbled. Still he was worried. Why would Jack leave after a week? Nothing terrible had happened. There'd been ups and downs, some boredom, some fights between random parties in the house, but nothing more than a typical week. Nothing more than a typical family. Angel getting beat up was a bit out of the ordinary for average families, but not around here, really.

"You look like you're in another world," Jerry said.

Bobby snapped out of his reverie. "What? Oh. I'm just thinking."

"He wouldn't run away," Jerry said decisively. "He knows that would just end him up somewhere worse."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, but he knows better than to just walk off. And this is not the time that he wants to be walking off. Ma and I have been trying to keep an extra eye on him recently." He tried to cast the thought of Kevin back to the shadows of his mind. A week had passed, with him and Evelyn talking just briefly about it again. It had, he'd hoped, turned into an empty threat and concern. But... Bobby was always concerned.

"Yeah."

"He also promised me he'd never just disappear again."

Jerry made a face. "Kids aren't always the best at making promises, Bobby. In case you haven't noticed."

"Yeah, but he knows better," Bobby persisted. "He wouldn't do that again. Not unless there was a really important reason. And I don't know what kind of important reasons eleven year olds have."

"Well, if he wandered off… He ought be back soon. And you can just chew him out then."

Bobby sighed. "I mean. If he ran away… he'd take his stuff, right?"

"You think it'd be easy enough… Still packed and all…"

Bobby sighed. "Okay. He'll be back soon then. I'm just going to look outside one more time, and then we'll just leave it alone for a while."

Jerry nodded. "Yeah, I agree." He reached for the controller of the TV as Bobby got up.

Bobby sighed and headed for the front door. He was amazed at how Jack had brought out all these feelings in him. Worry, mostly. He felt responsible and couldn't help the edginess he felt when Jack was gone. It had only been a week but already he felt attached and protective.

Why would Jack do this again? There'd been nothing of great importance last night that would've given him reason to disappear. And he knew if he wanted to go somewhere or do something that Bobby would take him. He did get in those weird tempers where he needed to be in his own world… But this felt different. And he could usually get over that mood by simply quieting down for a while.

Outside, Bobby sighed and walked off the stoop. He half expected Jack to be out there, scandalously smoking a cigarette with a secretive, bashful look on his face. But he wasn't there. The kid was no where to be found.

With a sigh, Bobby walked towards the driveway, looking out at his shitty car. This was just more stress now. He wondered if he should call Ma, and let her know. She'd do her same calm voice again, and maybe it would make him feel better.

Bobby ran a hand through his hair and turned back to look at the house. The Mercer house. His house. The house he wanted to take care of, even if it killed him.

Suddenly his mind went blank and he felt himself go cold.

He saw the ladder leaning up against the side of the house.

* * *


	30. Chapter 30

**Ugh, I'm really mad at this site right now. I've been trying to upload this a few times today and it wouldn't let me. Finally I just had to export an old chapter and cut and paste over it. Then I made all these edits and it didn't save it... Really frustrated right now, haha. I don't know why the website hates me! Let me just put it up before something else happens!

* * *

**

**Chapter 30 **

Bobby held the phone tightly in his hands. Jerry sat at the kitchen table, watching him with a frown. "Yes, I'm sure, Ma. I didn't just imagine a ladder on the side of the house. It goes right up to his room."

Jerry tried to follow the conversation, but sometimes it was hard, just hearing Bobby's side. Bobby had the tendency to get frustrated and angry before getting his thoughts out. Ma was usually pretty good at guiding him towards a coherent conversation, but if he was upset about something, like he was now… He had gotten better as he got older, but it could be still be difficult.

"We don't even _own _a ladder," Bobby was saying. "I mean, for fuck's sake… I don't even know which neighbors have ladders."

Jerry felt himself worry. He hadn't seen Bobby this agitated in a long time. He was already worried as it was, but seeing Bobby's state made him feel even worse.

"It's got to be _him_," Bobby persisted, clenching his fist. "Who else would— No, Ma. Why would Jack go out his window? I've been thinking this through my head for the past hour. He has no reason to— Yeah, I know you're trying to look at all possibilities. And I'm not trying to get mad at you."

Jerry sighed. He wanted to think that Jack had run off too. People didn't always need a good reason. Especially when you were eleven and little things seemed much bigger than they were. He almost wished it was Jack running off on his own. That was better than someone taking him.

"Where would Jackie get a ladder from?" Bobby asked. "We don't have one… And I would have heard—Yes, I would've. I've heard him every time he's gotten up in the middle of the night. I would've heard it."

Jerry wondered what they would do. Had he really been taken? Right out of his bedroom? That right there was really creepy.

"I'm _not _waiting around this time," Bobby said stiffly. "And I know you'll agree with me. There's just too much right here telling me… I don't know who to call. The cops. Could we get an APB out or something? Why would he want him back?"

"Maybe there's fingerprints on the ladder…" Jerry suggested.

Bobby gave him a look. "We already _know _who it is, Jerr… What Ma? No, he was saying we should take fingerprints off the ladder or something."

"To make sure," Jerry insisted.

"Should I call the cops?" Bobby asked. "I mean… It's sufficient evidence for them to have to do _something, _right?"

Jerry got up to get a glass of water as Bobby finished up on the phone. He almost wanted to yell at Bobby to calm down. It wasn't Ma's fault that all this was happening, and Bobby kept raising his voice to her as an easy target. He didn't say anything though. He knew Evelyn could take care of herself, and Bobby wasn't trying to give her a hard time either.

"Ugh." Bobby hung up the phone hard. "This is so frustrating."

"It's really scary," Jerry began, holding the glass of water in his hand. "I mean, abducting somebody out of their bedroom in the middle of the night? That's creepy."

"No shit," Bobby answered.

"What'd Ma say?"

He shook his head. "She's going to come home. Within the hour. They're caught up with some paperwork at the office, but she's going to leave as soon as possible. She told me to call the police now and see what they say."

"They'll love hearing from you, Bobby, instead of about you."

"Fuck off. That's what Ma said. It's not funny."

From his face, Jerry could tell that Bobby was in no mood for the teasing, about his own record or anything at all. He could understand that. He felt his stomach turn a little bit as he realized the seriousness. They had to figure out where Jack was.

"You know," Bobby began. "I think the majority of kidnappings are by family members… That's crazy. It's a really high percentage."

"Yeah," Jerry agreed.

"This dude's not even family though. I mean, it was his mother's boyfriend. I can't imagine that would still be… Well, it's an acquaintance. I wish I knew what was going through this guy's head..."

"Why would he want him back?" Jerry began. "I don't get it."

"I don't know. He's sick. That's the only thing I can say about him. He's fucking sick."

"Call the cops. Let's see what they say."

Bobby picked up the phone again and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Not being able to sleep, as painful as it was, usually eventually ended. And it did for Jack as well, because after laying in bed anxiously for what seemed like hours, he eventually drifted off, only to awake, startled, the next morning to the sun filling the room and the space in the bed next to him empty. 

He sat up quickly as the night flashed back into his head and he was flooded with fear when he remembered where he was and what had happened.

Where was Kevin now?

The door was still blocked by the chairs. He looked at it indecisively as he began to get out of bed. His back felt sore and he remembered Kevin trying to make him "understand". For the first time, he was really mad about it and wished he could do something.

He stood beside his bed thinking for a moment, sleep still hazing things over a little bit, but realizing he had to make some kind of move...

He started for the door and cautiously touched the first chair.

That was when Kevin emerged from the bathroom, looking irritated with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "So you're finally up. Don't touch that door."

Jack wanted to point out that he was actually touching the chair, not the door, but kept his mouth shut. He looked at Kevin cautiously, having no idea what the man's plan or intent was.

"Your mother's birthday was yesterday…" Kevin said slowly, now holding the toothbrush in his hand. "Did you know that?"

Jack paused. His mother was sometimes vivid to him, strange like a person who was born in the wrong era, and other times she was a blur, like a ghost, crawling in and out of his memories. He shook his head. He didn't know it was her birthday.

"Figured you wouldn't know," Kevin said with the edge of disappointment that was always in his voice. "You were never that good to her."

Jack blinked. His mother died when he was seven. He wasn't sure how to respond.

Kevin just shook his head and went back into the bathroom.

Swallowing back some fear, Jack reached up at the chair again, slowly trying to slide the top chair off. It made a small noise against the other chair. He could almost lift it off.

"I _said_," Kevin reappeared from the bathroom, "don't _touch _it."

Startled, Jack turned abruptly and let go, knocking the chair off its balance. It clattered to the ground and Jack winced, expecting it to break. It luckily didn't, instead just laid on its side in an awkward position.

"See?" Kevin muttered. "You can't do anything. Just listen for once."

Jack pulled the chair upright and set it aside, away from the door. Kevin eyed him wearily from the other side of the room. Jack felt like he'd accomplished something at least, getting one chair out of the way.

"Just sit," Kevin replied. "We'll be outta here in a minute."

Jack waited for him to go back into the bathroom. He'd made up his mind that he would take that moment to run. He realized the door was also locked. He would have to undo the bolt lock and the chain. And he would have to do it quickly. He tried to time it out in his head. He should maybe do the locks first… Then push the chair away…

His heart was pounding.

Kevin didn't go back into the bathroom. Instead he walked back over to the TV and turned it on, flipping a few stations. "Just sit and watch TV. I just gotta wash up and we'll be outta here. Gotta check out at the desk and we'll hit the road."

Jack cautiously walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, pretending like he would actually listen and watch TV. Kevin had put the news on. He had no interest in the news at all and didn't know Kevin had either.

"We're gonna stop at your mother's grave first…" Kevin told him. "So you can apologize to her."

Jack didn't know what he meant, and he just sat there and looked at the TV, willing Kevin with his mind to go back to the bathroom. He felt sick. All this talk about his mother.

A moment later, Kevin did turn his back and head back to the bathroom, talking under his breath about how a year had been such a long time.

As soon as he was in the bathroom, even though the door was still open, Jack jumped up. He returned to the motel room door and licked his lips decisively. This was it. He had to do it now. With a quick glance towards the other side of the room, he reached up and slowly slid the chain lock off. He realized the other lock would be louder.

He paused. He was scared. He glanced back at the TV and then quietly walked over to it. He put the volume up a bit louder with a glance over to the bathroom.

Back at the door, he quickly undid the bolt lock. It was loud, clicking firmly back into place to unlock the door. As Jack pushed the chair behind him, he heard Kevin's yell,

"I _told _you to stay away from that door!"

As Kevin stormed towards him from the other side of the room, Jack threw open the door and started to run. He knew he just had to get away. He still had no shoes on, and the pavement was hard beneath his pounding feet.

He didn't know where to run, but he knew that if Kevin caught him he'd get the beating of his life for this. And he couldn't deal with that after last night. He couldn't deal with that at all.

He ran as fast as he could and wasted a second to look behind him. Kevin was just behind him by about twenty feet. He was bigger and faster, but Jack could run fast when he wanted. He raced around the side of the motel building towards the front, heart pounding in his chest so hard it would probably explode. He could hear Kevin yelling behind him.

Up on the left he saw the motel lobby sign. He headed for it as fast as his legs would take him. He ran up the side of the building, past all the cars and rooms, and turned at the sign for the front. Shrubs bit into his covered legs as he ran past them.

When he saw the door, he darted towards it, pushing it open as hard as he could and running towards the desk.

The girl at the desk, young, perhaps in her twenties, looked startled at the rushed entrance. Her dark eyes widened and she looked at the boy, who was panting and frantic.

"You have to help me!" Jack insisted. He rushed up to the desk and then, thinking about it, dashed around the desk to her side to duck beneath the counter.

"Help you?" she echoed, sweeping her dark hair off her shoulder. "With what? Look kid—"

"Please!" he hissed, feeling tears burning behind his eyes. "Please help me. Don't say I'm here! I'm not supposed to be here!"

"I—" she began and then cut herself off as someone else entered the lobby.

Jack crouched lower behind the counter, squeezing himself in between the waste basket and the computer terminal. He could hear it humming. Breathing heavily, he hugged his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. He prayed she wouldn't say anything; that she wouldn't give him away.

"Can I help you, sir?" he heard her ask.

When he heard Kevin's voice answer, his pulse raced and a couple tears slipped out of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. Please don't say anything… he begged in his mind. Please...

"Yes," Kevin said. "Did a boy run in here?" His voice was rough, nearly out of breath as well.

"A boy?" she echoed. Jack watched her legs as she spoke. She was shifting back and forth.

"Yeah," Kevin continued. "He's about ten or so. He's my son. We were about to leave and he just ran off, like a joke. We play this game sometimes. See who can find each other first… But we're really on a schedule, and… I swear, I just saw him run in here."

"Uh… No…" she almost stuttered. "Sorry, no one just ran in here. It's been a pretty slow morning."

"Are you sure?" Kevin asked, the false patience in his voice fading. "I mean, he was just up ahead of me, and I swear…"

"No, sir. It's just been me in here, and I would've noticed I think. It's not too big a place. But if he turns up, I'll be sure to let you know…"

"Yeah… It's weird. I really swear I just saw him." Kevin's voice was suspicious, impatient. "I guess there's no where else to run to in here."

"What's your name and room number? In case I see him come by, I could give you a call."

Kevin hesitated. "Uh, yeah that's probably a good idea. It's Kevin Harris."

"And your room, sir?"

"107."

"Okay, I'll let you know then. Is there anything else you need?"

"No… That's it…"

Jack listened to the footsteps. He hoped Kevin would leave. He realized he was holding his breath and slowly let it out.

A moment later the girl peered down at him. "Hey, kid, he's gone. Is that who you were hiding from?"

Jack nodded.

"He seemed a little off… Was he chasing you?"

Jack nodded again.

"Look, I don't usually lie for people… And I have no idea who you are or who he is, or even what's going on… Are you his son?"

Jack shook his head.

The girl frowned. "Look, I won't tell him where you are. I just figure I should know what's going on. I'm the only one here right now in the office, so…"

"He kidnapped me," Jack said quietly. "Last night."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious? Then I should call the cops."

Jack shook his head quickly. "No, I just want to go. I don't want to talk to the cops. I don't want them to take me back to him."

"Why would they? If he's not your father and he kidnapped you?"

Jack shook his head and begged. "Please, don't call them…" He never knew what the cops would do, or where they would bring him. He didn't want to get them involved. Anytime there'd been cops before something bad had happened. They would probably make him see Kevin again. They would probably believe everything Kevin said. Kevin always convinced people he was a terrible kid.

"Okay…" she agreed reluctantly. "Although I think that's a bad idea. If you're telling the truth, you wouldn't mind me calling."

"It's _different_," he insisted quietly. "You _can't_."

"Okay, okay…" she agreed. She studied him for a moment and then reached down. As he flinched a little, she touched his chin and tilted his head up. "You have blood by your mouth," she said quietly, rubbing at the big smudge of dried blood on his chin by his lip. "Did he hit you?"

"I don't know," Jack answered reflexively, pulling his head away.

She frowned at him. "Okay. Well, let's start over. I'm Jenna." She put her hand down for him to shake.

He just stared at her hand.

She lowered his hand and raised her eyebrows. "Okay…. You're shy, I guess. C'mon. What's your name?"

"Jack," he admitted.

"Jack what?" she asked.

He hesitated. "I don't know."

"You don't know your last name?" she persisted. "Look, if that guy is your dad and you are just in trouble or something…"

"He's _not_," Jack insisted. "Please don't call him."

She looked at him indecisively. "Okay, Jack. I won't. I just want to help."

He frowned, chewing on a fingernail nervously. His heart was pounding a little bit less now, but he still felt really nervous. He felt like any moment Kevin would come storming back into the lobby and figure out where he was. And this girl wouldn't be able to do anything but let him take him back.

"Is there a bus around here or something?" Jack asked softly. "I just need a bus or something."

"I have something better," she answered. "A phone. Tell me who I should call."

Jack hesitated. The only number he knew by memory was 911. And there was no way in hell he was calling 911.

Before he could answer, the phone rang, as if confirming that it was there. He got nervous at the sound of it, wondering who it was. Whether it was Kevin calling back. She turned away from him to grab the phone from the desk. He listened to her answer it nervously. She gave a formal motel greeting in a monotonous voice and then paused.

His stomach dropped. Was it him?

Then she said, "Sure, sir. We have extra towels right here at the main desk. You can come down and—Yes, sir. Anytime. Okay. Thank you."

She hung up the phone and then turned back to look at him. "Who can I—"

"Was that him?" Jack asked.

"Him? You mean that guy from before? No. No, that wasn't him," she answered. She gave him a concerned look. "Look, kid, are you okay?"

He set his jaw, hesitating. Then he asked softly. "Is there a bus?"

"If you don't live with him…" Jenna began gently, "then where do you live? Can I call them?"

"I don't know their phone number…" Jack admitted, leaning his head back. He rested it against the back of the desk.

"But you would want me to call them? Because I can look it up in the phone book," she persisted.

Jack hesitated, thinking about it. "I guess."

"Okay, good. What's their last name?" She reached across the desk to pull out a phone book from a row of flyers and books.

Jack stared at the carpet. "Um. Mercer."

"Mercer?" Jenna asked. A look of recognition passed over her face. "What Mercer? I mean, what's the first name?"

Jack frowned. "Ev… Eveyln."

"Really." Jenna put down the phone book.

Jack frowned. He didn't get it.

"And Bobby?" Jenna asked. "And Jerry and Angel, also?"

Jack was silent for a moment of surprise. Then he asked, "How do you know that?"

A small smile crossed over her face. "I know the Mercers. Really well. Bobby's really good friends with my brother, Dan."

Jack frowned. He remembered Dan. This was weird. He didn't know whether to trust her.

"I didn't know Bobby had a new little brother," she said, now looking less suspicious of him. "I'll give him a call right now, okay?"

Making a face, still confused at the connection, Jack answered, "I guess."

* * *

When the phone rang, Bobby was frustrated. He had just gotten off the phone with the police, who agreed to come by later in the afternoon, saying that most kids would turn up right away, and not fully understanding his ladder/kidnapping claim. Understanding Jack was a foster child and knowing a little of his background, they tried to assure Bobby that he'd probably just run off and would be back. 

No matter how many times Bobby insisted that he knew what had actually happened, and that they didn't even own a ladder, they responded that they would be over in the afternoon if it was still needed.

Jerry suggested that if he said "Fuck" less on the phone, they would be more likely to listen to him. Bobby's glare told him to back off.

When the phone rang again, Bobby angrily thought to himself that maybe the police had rationalized the situation and were calling him back.

"Hello?" he said abruptly.

"Hello?" came a girl's voice. "Bobby?"

"Yeah…?" Bobby answered slowly. He had no idea who it was. "Who is this?"

"It's Jenna."

"Jenna…?" Bobby responded in surprise. "Jesus. I haven't talked to you in ages. I just saw Dan the other day. How you doing, sweetheart?"

"I'm doing fine. I'm at work right now and I had something to tell you."

Bobby cut her off, feeling guilty. "Look, Jenna, I'm really sorry, but this isn't the best time for me to talk. I'm gonna sound like an ass here, but I don't want to tie up the phone lines…"

"I think I have something you want to hear, Bobby," Jenna responded. "That's the reason I'm calling."

"Really?" Bobby rubbed at his forehead tiredly. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't seen Jenna for a few months. Last he heard from Dan, she was still at school being the 'smart one'. He was always closer to Danny growing up, but had dated Jenna briefly, and messed around with her several more times behind everyone's back after they'd broken up

"You missing something?" Jenna asked. "Or someone?"

Jerry was looking at Bobby quizzically, especially after hearing it was Jenna on the line, who he was surprised was calling. The look that crossed Bobby's face next was hard to decipher.

"Um. Yeah… Actually…" Bobby began, puzzled. "Jenna, what's this about?"

"I have this kid here," Jenna persisted. "Weird story actually. But he's here at work with me, and he said he lived with you guys. I didn't know you had another kid brother."

"He's with you?" Bobby demanded.

"Yeah. Like just walked in a few minutes okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Where do you work?" Bobby asked, hastily looking for paper and a pen. He found some in a drawer by the phone.

Jenna gave the address of the motel. "I'm in the main office. In the front of the hotel."

"Is he alone?"

Jenna paused. "There was some guy here, Bobby. Looking for him. I don't know who he is."

Bobby clenched his free hand into a fist. "Keep him with you. I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Okay."

"Thank you so much, Jenna."

"No problem, Bobby."

Bobby hung up the phone and turned to Jerry. "You'll never believe this."

Jerry frowned. "I'd never believe anything that happened this morning," he admitted. "Try me."

* * *

"He's coming," Jenna told Jack.

Jack looked at her. He'd believe it when he saw it.

"You wanna sit out here?" she asked him, pointing to a chair behind her.

Jack shook his head. What if Kevin came back? He couldn't risk begin in plain view.

She looked at him quizzically and then just shrugged. "You don't live far from here," she said. "He should be here in just a couple of minutes if he left when he hung up."

Jack nodded. He hoped she was right. He felt really agitated and nervous. "If he comes back, don't tell him I'm here."

"The other guy? I know, honey…" she said earnestly. "I won't."

"Pretend I'm not here," he insisted. "Until Bobby comes."

"Okay," she agreed.

A few minutes passed and Bobby hadn't arrived. Jack began to feel suspicious of this girl. She was busy answering phones. The man that called for the towels came in to get them, and even though it was an innocent enough transaction, Jack found himself nearly shaking. He figured any minute Kevin would come back.

Finally, he heard the door open and heard a familiar voice say, "Fucking traffic… I'm sorry…"

"Hey, Bobby," Jenna answered. "It's been a while."

"I know, it has. Where is he?" Bobby demanded. "I've been going crazy, Jenna."

"He's here," Jenna responded.

Persuaded that it was actually Bobby, Jack pushed himself out from behind the desk and rushed around over to Bobby, throwing him arms around him. "Bobby!" he exclaimed in relief.

Bobby was caught off guard a little bit, as he'd never seen Jack so happy to see him. At the same time, he was also overwhelmed to see Jack himself after the stress of the morning, and he hoisted him up into his arms. "I've been looking all over for you, Jack…" he said. "I left Jerry at home by the phone."

Jack wrapped his arms around Bobby's neck, burying his face in his shoulder. He ignored the fact that it hurt when the man rubbed his back, simply relieved that someone other than Kevin was here. He sniffled, the stress of the morning building up on him. "Are you mad at me?" he asked shakily.

Bobby paused, frowning. "No, Jackie. Why the hell would I be mad at you?"

"I didn't mean to leave..." Jack persisted in a whispered into Bobby's neck. "He came back... He made me..."

"I know. Did he hurt you?" Bobby demanded. "At all? Is this where you've been?"

Jack was silent, breathing heavily into Bobby's tshirt. He hugged his neck tighter. He'd never been happier to see Bobby.

Bobby sighed at the silence and pulled Jack up a little tighter, feeling his knees pressing into his sides. This was definitely the clingiest he had ever seen the kid. It filled him with a sense of protective anger. He wanted to find this Kevin guy and beat the shit out of him.

"He's still here, Bobby," Jenna offered gently, as if reading his mind. "I mean, he hasn't checked out yet. And he just came by, seriously like fifteen or twenty minutes ago looking for him. I think Jack ran away from their room."

"I'm gonna find him," Bobby said decisively. "You know what room he's in?"

Jack was alarmed. He didn't want to go anywhere near Kevin again. He just wanted to leave this place. "Don't," Jack pleaded.

"It's fine," Bobby assured him, squeezing him. "I need to see this infamous guy and show him a thing or two..."

"Bobby, do you think that's a good idea?" Jenna objected. "Let me just call the cops. I'll—"

"What room is he in, Jenna?" Bobby asked.

"He'll be back in here any minute to check out," Jenna insisted. "Let me call the cops." She picked up the phone, giving him a cautious look. "Check out's in like twenty minutes, so he's gonna have to come back here soon." Her voice was insistent.

Bobby set his jaw.

"I can't just give you his room number and let you do this," Jenna answered. "I know you're stubborn, Bobby, but just listen to me. I mean, it being against our policy is just the beginning."

Bobby looked angry. He held Jack tightly. "I don't think you know who we're dealing with here."

"I don't think _you _do," she objected. "Bobby, I understand what you want to do, but it's not smart, and you don't really have the right to do it. I'm going to call the police."

Jack stiffened. He hated the police. He hated Kevin too. He didn't want to see either ever again.

"If you go into that room," Jenna continued, "you're just gonna get yourself in trouble, Bobby."

Bobby knew that. He also knew that no one could convince him not to confront this person. He watched Jenna raise the phone to her ear and dial. He wasn't going to stop her. She was making the correct move.

He listened to her explain who she was on the phone and then attempt to explain the current situation. He tried to look at Jack, but the kid still had a strong grip on him and didn't seem to want to let go anytime soon. It was out of character for him, considering he always pulled away and wouldn't let Bobby hold him for long, but he figured with the events of the morning and night, it was understandable.

"They said they'll be here soon," Jenna told him.

"Good," Bobby answered.

He hoped Kevin got here before they did.

* * *


	31. Chapter 31

**Okay I kind of have it planned out how the next few chapters, and possible end will be to this story... I'm considering doing **

**follow-up stories that are independent but keep the same background and characterizations of the characters. It will depend how I feel when I finally end this. (Will it _ever_ end, haha?) Anyway, here is 31. Enjoy.

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**Chapter 31**

Jack was really nervous. Bobby had sat him back behind the desk, on the chair, and he realized that they weren't going to leave just yet, even though he wanted to. He chewed on his fingernails anxiously as he watched Jenna and Bobby talk.

Bobby was leaning against the front desk with his arm resting across the countertop. Every minute or so he would look towards the door expectantly. Jack wasn't sure what they were talking about, whether it was about today or catching up on the past, because they were speaking in such low tones. Were they trying to hide their conversation from him or was it just a coincidence? He had no idea.

This coincidence kind of bothered him, and he wasn't sure why. Just the whole way that things had worked out seemed really weird. There was just way too much going on, and way too much that could possibly still happen. He felt like crying but figured it would seem like he was a big baby if he started, so he tried to hold it back. As long as he could keep quiet he would be fine.

The police were coming. Kevin was coming. They didn't know who would arrive first. Jack _really _didn't want to see either of them. He kind of wanted to wait somewhere else, to get away from it, but was too afraid to ask. Besides, he didn't want to go outside by himself, and he couldn't think of anywhere else that he could really wait.

He watched Bobby and Jenna. Jenna was smiling a little bit, and Jack wondered just how anybody could be smiling right now. He kind of liked her, mostly because she'd been able to get Bobby here, but there were enough new people in his life right now. He preferred she just go away.

Sirens were faint in the distance, and Jack looked at the door. He knew there would be no sirens when the police arrived here, but it still made him worry. It was then, looking at the door, that he saw a familiar character approaching from outside.

He froze for a second and then managed to voice a worrisome, "Bobby…"

Bobby looked at him. "What, Jack?"

Jack didn't need to say anything. Bobby heard someone enter and turned from the counter, straightening.

Kevin had a key in his hand, ready to check out, and Jack wondered what his plan had been. Would he have looked for him more or just left after checking out? Maybe he would have gone back to the house to see if he returned. If he'd gone through all this trouble to get him back, he couldn't see him just leaving empty-handed. If he was able to find him the first time, there was no saying what he would be capable of next.

Jack didn't care if this could end now.

Kevin spotted him behind the counter immediately and clenched his fists. "You. I knew you were here. C'mon. We're leaving, you brat."

Jack felt himself go rigid in his chair, bracing himself for what came next as Kevin approached the counter.

He wasn't sure why he winced when Bobby stepped forward from the counter and swiftly slugged Kevin in the face.

"Bobby!" Jenna hissed.

Jack was just wide-eyed.

The key in Kevin's hand clattered to the floor as his hand flew up to touch his face where he'd just been hit. He looked at Bobby incredulously. "Who the fuck are you?" He gave him a quick shove.

Bobby's face was red with anger. He glared at the man, retorting, "I'd like to ask you the same question."

"Do you work here?"

"No," Bobby answered.

"Then we're done. You really don't want to start something with me." Kevin looked over behind the counter, giving Jack a look. "Jack, you better get over here, we're leaving this place." As Kevin bent down to pick up his key, Bobby caught him off guard with another punch, right in the jaw.

Kevin grunted, stumbling back a bit. After a pause to regain balance, he straightened, and gave Bobby a deadly look, shoving him back again. "Okay. You wanna start something, son? I told you—"

"He's not going anywhere," Bobby answered.

"Is that was this is about?"

Jack felt like he was watching a movie. He couldn't move at all, and he suddenly felt like somebody was drowning him. It was all fuzzy, but a second later, he saw Kevin swing back, and then the fight really picked up. He'd never really seen a fight like this, except for on TV, and he wasn't sure what to do. Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe he was just imagining it.

It was a mixture of sounds, but the loudest was his heart beating hard. He could hear Bobby and Kevin yelling at each other, and the sounds of their scuffling and punches, and then there was Jenna, yelling at Bobby to stop.

Jack wasn't sure what to do, or even if he was supposed to do anything at all. They were on the ground now, and he couldn't see them from behind the front desk. He swallowed and stayed where he was. He felt a little nauseous but didn't want to move.

He wondered who was winning. He'd been on the receiving end of Kevin's fist himself but he figured Bobby could hold his own a little better than that at least.

He felt himself in another world, a silent world, which was then brutally interrupted when the doors to the office burst open, slamming against the walls, and three policemen entered, one of them pulling out his nightstick.

"Break it up!" he yelled, moving quickly towards the middle of the room, where Jack guessed the two were on the floor. He still couldn't see, and really didn't want to move.

"He _said_," one of the other officers shouted, "break it up!"

A moment later, each being held back by an officer, Kevin and Bobby reappeared in Jack's view, rising from the floor. He couldn't tell how Bobby really looked, other than extremely angry, but Kevin had blood dripping from his nose, down his chin.

He looked wild.

They both had their arms held behind their back by the cops.

"Bobby, just calm down," Jenna said insistently. "C'mon, it's not worth this."

"Yes, it is," Bobby retorted, eyes flashing.

"Sir, I have to ask you to _compose _yourself," the officer said to Kevin roughly, pushing him towards the wall to hold him up against it. Kevin was still struggling to get away. "You are resisting a police officer."

"He attacked me!" Kevin shouted, trying to reel around to look at Bobby. "That man, right there, he attacked me!"

"Which one of you is Kevin Harris?"

"This is ridiculous!" Kevin tried to push the officer off. "He attacks me, just as I'm only trying to check out, and I'm the one being restrained! I—"

"Sir, are you Kevin Harris?" the officer struggling with him asked.

"I'm Kevin. What does it matter who I am? I have rights! I have rights just like anybody else!" Kevin persisted. He succeeded in shoving the officer away from him roughly, just as the third police officer rushed over, pulling handcuffs out.

"Sir! Please face the wall, place your hands up, and interlace your fingers behind your head!" he directed.

Kevin hesitated, he stared at the two police officers in front of him, as if shocked that they were turning on him. His eyes flitted to Bobby, who was now unrestrained, standing next to the last officer. Their eyes met briefly and Kevin growled,

"Officers, that man assaulted me, unprovoked. He—"

"Sir, please face the wall!" the third officer barked. "Interlace your fingers behind your head!"

Startled, and eyeing the officer's hand hovering over his weapon, Kevin spit out a mouthful of blood and slowly turned around, raising his hands behind his head. Roughly, the officer grabbed his left arm and pulled it down to his back, clicking the cuff on before he pulled his other arm down as well.

"Sir, you are under arrest for the assault of a police officer. We are also aware that you violated the mandates of a restraining order with the breaking and entering of a residential home and the kidnapping of a minor."

"This is fucking insane," Kevin muttered as the officer began to read him his rights. "I can't believe this."

"You'll have plenty of time to give us your side of the story…" the officer answered unsympathetically. "Not that it will make a difference."

The two officers began to pull him towards the door. Kevin turned his head towards Bobby as he left, and said, "You'll have to answer to this, you bastard… You'll see…"

The third officer was talking to Jenna now, as she had placed the call. Bobby's eyes darted to the front desk and behind it to view Jack, simply sitting there in exactly the same spot, looking pale as a ghost and unblinking as he stared at the floor.

Bobby started towards him and the officer briefly broke off from talking to Jenna. "Son… Don't go far… I still have to talk to you… I'll have you know that we'll have to take you to the precinct as well, both for your statement… And I'll let you know right now that there is a chance that man could press for assault charges from what this young lady is telling me…"

"Whatever," Bobby answered, just shaking his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You'll have to excuse him," Jenna interjected. "This has been a really bizarre morning… And—"

"I understand," the officer agreed. "I'm on your side. I'm just telling it like it is…"

Bobby walked around the desk and approached Jack slowly. "Hey…"

Jack didn't look at him. He continued to stare at the floor, kicking his foot at an invisible spot in the tiling. "Hey," he murmured.

"I'm sorry about that…" Bobby began. He reached down and tousled Jack's hair awkwardly. "But they'll take care of him. You'll never see him again, Jack."

Jack didn't believe him. Bobby had also told him that no one would ever hurt him again and that wasn't true. He didn't want to believe anybody about anything. It was hard to make sure. "Can we," he asked a little shakily, "go now?"

"No… Unfortunately," Bobby answered, "I think we're going to have to go with the cops at first."

Jack paused. That was where Kevin was being taken. Suddenly all the stress began to break on him and he felt his eyes well up.

Bobby's noticed the change in his expression and breathing and saw the oncoming tears. "Jack," he objected. "Don't. We'll go home as soon as possible."

Jack wanted to point out that it wasn't _home_. It wasn't home at all. Not yet at least.

Bobby sighed as tears began to roll down Jack's cheeks. He didn't know what to do. He realized just how traumatic and tiring the whole experience must have been for Jack, as it had been enough stress on himself. He put his hands out, as if to pick him up again, and immediately Jack pushed his hands away.

"No…" he whimpered.

"Okay, fine." Bobby dropped his hands to his side. "Look, Jack, I want to go home too… And we will. We just need to tell them what happened. It won't take long. Let me ask them."

Bobby started to walk away and Jack panicked. He reached up and grabbed his shirt. Bobby paused and looked at him frowning. "What, Jack? I don't know what you want…"

"Let's _go…_" Jack insisted softly.

"We _can't_," Bobby answered gently. "Why would I lie to you?"

Jack didn't know. Technically Bobby had already lied to him. He didn't know really what he wanted to believe, but he wanted to at least trust Bobby. He just didn't understand why they couldn't leave this place and get going. He continued to hold Bobby's shirt in a tight grip, trying to figure out what to do.

Jenna was still talking to the police officer, and she was agreeing to open up some motel directory records for him and print off a copy of Kevin's room information. She was saying how she didn't really know if she was supposed to do that, but she looked like she was cooperating anyway.

"Sir," the officer met Bobby's eye, "we're going to have to get going shortly."

"Yeah, that's fine," Bobby agreed. He turned to Jack who was still quietly crying, his chin pressed against his chest. "Jack." He gave him a sympathetic look. "C'mon. Why are you crying?" He realized what a stupid question that was and figured Jack should cry all he wanted. "We're gonna go in a second with the cop, alright?"

Jack just shook his head.

Bobby sighed. He leaned down again and pulled Jack off the chair. Jack didn't resist this time, trying to decide how he felt about what had just happened between Bobby and Kevin. He was extremely confused, and tired. He didn't know how much he'd slept last night.

* * *

Somehow Evelyn met them at the police station. Jack was sitting, waiting, extremely angry and upset that Bobby had left him, although in reality it was the police officers that had separated them, taking Bobby into another room to question him. He was so upset by it in fact, that he blurted out his new plan to Evelyn as soon as he saw her, 

"I'm not telling them _anything_," he said.

"Honey…" she sank down into the chair next to him. "Are you okay? They called me when you got here… Jerry and I have been sitting by the phone worrying like crazy… I'm so glad Jenna was able to call Bobby…"

"I'm not telling them anything," Jack persisted, sniffling.

She reached out to put an arm around him and he pushed her away. She ignored the cold gesture and persisted, "We've been so worried, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

"No," Jack replied stiffly.

"Where's Bobby?"

Jack shrugged.

Evelyn sighed and gave him a compassionate look. She couldn't imagine how he must feel, and what else might have gone on that she didn't know about. She knew not to take his mood personally as much as deep down it did hurt her. He didn't mean it. "Okay, honey. I'm going to go ask the officers a couple of questions, okay? You alright sitting here?"

"I guess," Jack murmured.

Evelyn gave him the once over again before she spotted a police officer walking by the seating area and got up to talk to him. She just wanted to know what the status was on Jack and Bobby and when they could be leaving.

Within a few minutes, Bobby returned to the room, looking frustrated and running his hands through his hair. He looked up, surprised to see Evelyn, and glanced at Jack before walking up to her.

"Thank you," she said to the officer as he started to walk away. Then she saw Bobby and murmured, "Oh, thank God. Both of you are alright. Bobby…"

"Ma, it's been quite the day…" he answered, returning her hug. "And it's still early?"

"I know, Bobby. But you should have _called me_," she scolded. "Do you know how worried I've been? And to hear you were here. And now I find out that you _assaulted _the man? Bobby, I—"

"Oh, Ma... We have Jack back... We—"

"Sweetheart, it's not just that... Things could be more serious now..."

"You don't get it," Bobby objected. "Let's not do this here, Ma."

"No, I get it perfectly," she persisted. "You were angry. That's all there is to it. Bobby, any sane man would have wanted to do the same thing as you. Wanted. I understand where you were coming from, but you don't _think_. You could have gotten hurt. You could have gotten Jack hurt."

"No." Bobby shook his head. "I sized him up. I knew I could take him. I—"

"You don't have to 'take' _anybody_, Bobby," she persisted. "Don't you get that?"

"That man _deserved_ what he had coming to him," Bobby answered stiffly. "He deserved even more."

"I'm not disagreeing," she answered. "I despise that man, and I'm disgusted by him, as much as you are. But it's not your place, Bobby, and you didn't need to get yourself in trouble."

Bobby shook his head.

"You think he needs to see you like that?" she asked softly, indicating Jack, still quiet behind them. "Huh, Bobby? You think that's what he needs to see to trust you?"

"He trusts me," Bobby said irritably.

"Does he? You think he wanted to see you engage Kevin?" she persisted.

"Ma… Let's not do this."

She sighed and then nodded. Her worry didn't need to turn into anger. "Okay. Okay, Bobby. I'm sorry, I just have been worried sick all morning. We'll talk later."

"Okay," he replied. He turned back to Jack. "Hey. Kid. They want to talk to you in a few minute, okay, buddy?"

"Not saying anything," Jack replied.

"To them? Why?"

Jack just shook his head.

"I just told them everything I know," Bobby pointed out. "It's harmless. It just takes a few minutes for a statement. I wasn't gone long, right?"

To Jack, Bobby had been gone an eternity. He felt like he'd been sitting alone for a long time. "I don't _want _to."

"Jack." Bobby walked over to him and sat down in the seat beside him. "It just takes a minute."

Jack didn't answer. Wouldn't that be a minute sooner that they could leave then?

"They need to hear your side," Bobby persisted. "Don't you want them to know what Kevin did last night? Did he hurt you?"

Jack shrugged.

"Did he?" Bobby clenched his fists. As angry as Ma was, and as annoyed as the cops were, he didn't regret at all the five minutes he had to take care of things with Kevin. Even though Ma was right, and it didn't accomplish anything or move things along, it made him feel better.

Jack shrugged again.

Bobby sighed. "Jack…"

"Didn't you tell them everything?" Jack asked softly.

"Well, from my side…" Bobby replied gently. "I don't know what happened between you and him from when he took you."

Jack just swallowed. He shrugged. "Nothing. We can go."

"Jack," Bobby said. He looked up at Evelyn, who was watching them. "Do you want me to just have someone talk to you out here? You don't need to be alone with anybody."

"I won't say anything," Jack warned. "No matter what."

Bobby sighed. The police had mentioned to him the necessity that Jack get even a physical exam, just to ensure that he was not hurt, not just for a case. He wasn't sure how any of this was going to work.

"Listen..." Bobby sighed. "We can't go anywhere until you say something, understand? As soon as you tell them anything, then you can go."

Jack had heard them question Kevin last year. He knew he didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to. "There's the five things," he objected.

Bobby frowned at him. "Five what?"

"Five things," Jack answered. He sniffled stubbornly. "I don't have to say anything."

"I think he means the Fifth Amendment..." Evelyn said softly.

"He can change his mind though, right?" Bobby spoke to Evelyn now. "We can go home and then he can tell them later?"

"We can talk to them about that..." Evelyn said with a hint of worry in her voice. "Do you think that's the best thing?"

"Ma, he hasn't been home all night. After he rests maybe he'll be more cooperative."

"So we can go?" Jack asked.

"Maybe." Bobby wiped a tear off of Jack's cheek gently. "Only if they let us, and only if you promise us you'll think about telling them what happened while you're at home, okay? Because it's important."

"Thinking is easy," Jack answered quietly.

Bobby couldn't disagree with that. Thinking about it, all of it, was inevitable.

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**I got tired towards the end of this... (It's 2:30 AM!) but I hope it's okay... Like I said.. I've got plans :)**

**However, busy next few days, but I'll try to keep the updates as regular as possible. I've been spoiling everyone updating every single day! **

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	32. Chapter 32

**Hello and thanks to everyone for the reviews! I am going to get back to most of you, especially those with questions, but I just moved last week and don't have internet yet. I'm having trouble stealing my neighbors' internet too, which is a shock, being in NYC… The ones I do pick up aren't very reliable… Haha, so I might be a little bit slower than I had been in the updates department, but I'm trying! **

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**Chapter 32 **

"Thank God you guys are okay," Jerry breathed a sigh of relief as his family came through the front door. "You've been gone for such a long time, I didn't know what to do."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Evelyn apologized. "Things took a long time at the police station, to get everything settled."

Jerry nodded as they walked towards the family room. He studied Jack, who seemed okay. It was hard to tell because he was always really quiet, and stiff, and kind of in another world. "So is everyone okay?"

"We're all in one piece," Bobby replied, "if that's what you mean."

"What'd they do? To Kevin?"

"They have multiple charges against him, apparently," Evelyn explained as she sat down on the couch tiredly. "I hope that we'll never have to hear that name again…"

"How are you holding up, Jack?" Jerry asked, patting him on the shoulder. Jack pulled away from him and abruptly left the room. Jerry frowned at Evelyn and Bobby. "Is he okay?"

"I'd imagine just a bit traumatized," Evelyn said gently. "This was quite a day for him."

"There's a lot he's not saying," Bobby began. "Somehow we need to convince him to give the cops his statement. Because he's the biggest part of the report, and this man has got to get locked away."

"I know, honey…" Evelyn began. "You can't force him to do anything, but I imagine he'll also see how important it is that he explains everything."

"He thinks everything you ignore goes away," Bobby objected. "And it only makes it worse."

Evelyn sighed. "Sweetheart, I know, but I think Jack just needs a little time to himself and then talking to him might be easier."

Bobby shrugged. "Probably."

"I really can't believe… I mean, today is just…"

Jerry gave her a sympathetic look. "I think we're all a little bit traumatized."

* * *

Night time came quickly. Jack lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding. He spent most of the ending day in his room, just thinking and kind of worrying. The previous night and morning wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him. His back throbbed as though it had just been minutes ago that Kevin had hit him.

Every time he closed his eyes, he got a suspicious feeling in his body that crept over him like a fog. Immediately he'd open his eyes, pulse a little faster, and glance towards the window.

It was windy outside. It was supposed to rain but it hadn't started yet.

He sighed, sitting up a little bit against the pillow.

Sleeping didn't seem to be a possibility. In fact he was having trouble keeping his eyes closed for more than a few minutes.

A tap on the window startled him and he sat up, staring at the window. It was dark outside, and dark in the room, and he couldn't see anything.

But there was something there. He could tell.

He was about to reach over and turn on the light on the night table beside him and then froze. If he turned on the light… Then whoever was outside would be able to see the light and know that he was in there.

He pushed back the covers on his bed and slowly swung his legs to the side, sliding out of bed. He crept towards the window slowly, taking even, big breaths to try to calm himself. When he reached the window, he pulled the shade slightly aside and glanced out quickly.

That was when he noticed the ladder. It was still balanced up against his window. He didn't even have to look twice. He swiftly reached up to lock the window before pulling back the shade in panic, hoping no one had seen him.

Then he rushed towards the door of the room, locking it as well before running out to the hall.

Moments later he stood in Bobby's room, standing at the edge of the bed, debating whether or not to wake him. Bobby was sound asleep, blanket pulled up to his chin, breathing softly.

Jack hesitated for minute and then said softly, "Bobby." He leaned over and shook his shoulder.

Bobby awoke, startled, which in turn startled Jack, who took a step back from the bed.

With narrowed eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness, Bobby said groggily, "Jack… What do you need…"

"There is something…" Jack began urgently. "At my window."

"Something…?" Bobby echoed.

"Someone," Jack explained.

Bobby rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. "Jackie…"

"There is."

Bobby yawned and studied the kid standing beside his bed. Today had been a really terrible day, and he had been so happy to finally get to bed and just collapse. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he had fallen asleep just moments after his head hit the pillow. And now he was awake again.

He kept himself calm. He was barely awake, how could he not be calm? Besides, nightmares were understandable. He'd be really terrible to get upset over losing sleep because of kid's nightmares.

"Jack…" he started.

"I mean it," Jack insisted.

"Jack, you had a bad dream. Go to bed."

Jack shook his head. "Bobby, there is someone outside my window. I heard them."

"It was only a dream."

Jack sighed and glanced towards the door. "No. I haven't slept yet. So you can dream when you're awake." He looked at Bobby again. "And I can't sleep yet. Because somebody is out there."

"Jack. No one is out there."

"How do you know?" Jack insisted. "You didn't know last time. I bet if I told you last time you'd've thought I was lyin' then too."

"Jack, that's not true." Bobby sat up.

"I _don't lie_," Jack said softly.

"If you did lie, and you said that, how would I know it was true?" Bobby joked unenthusiastically.

Jack just stared at him.

"Okay, come on." Bobby moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I understand you're scared about what happened today. That's completely understandable."

"I'm _not _scared," Jack said.

"Now I do think you're lying."

"I'm _not_," Jack persisted. "Why won't you believe me? There's a ladder at my window."

Bobby cursed under his breath. "I meant to take that down. I meant to last night, Jack. Want me to take it down now?"

"Don't go outside," Jack warned him.

"Jackie…" Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Can I sleep with you?"

Bobby looked at him in surprise and frowned. "Are you kidding me?"

Jack looked away, back at the door. He realized that Bobby probably thought that he was being a big baby. And that coming to his room had probably been a really bad idea. He didn't even believe him.

"First. I can go outside right now and prove to you no one's there," Bobby began, "if you want."

"I heard it at my window…" Jack said softly. "I'm not making it up."

"I know you're not. It's just that… I know when I think about something, everything seems to be about that something. And it's possible to _think _you hear things that aren't there."

Jack didn't believe him. He just stood there, and stared at the floor.

"Jack, you know I don't like it when you just ignore everything," Bobby said. "If you woke me up, we're at least gonna talk. That's fair."

Jack was quiet. Then he asked, "Are the doors locked?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. They're all locked."

"Can I sleep here?" Jack asked again.

"Fine…" Bobby sighed. "Of course." A look of relief flashed over Jack's face. He figured he should at least be happy that Jack was trusting him. That alone had been a gradual improvement over the past week, and he might as well continue to try to have his trust. He got back into bed and pushed himself over to the other side. Lifting up the blanket, he gave Jack a look. "Come on."

Jack climbed into the bed gratefully and Bobby dropped the blankets over him.

"Can you do me a favor?" Bobby asked softly.

"What?"

"Tomorrow you're going to write down exactly what happened…"

"What happened?"

"Last night. And today. You're going to write everything down. You don't have to talk to, or see, anybody, and then I can just give it to the cops so that they can have your statement and they can put him away. Okay?"

Jack hesitated. "Why?"

"Jack, don't you want to make sure he gets prosecuted?"

"What do you mean? He'll do what he wants."

"Not necessarily. Just tell me. Did he do anything to you?"

Jack paused. He didn't realize that sleeping here would come with so many questions. He was hoping to just get the satisfaction of having somebody else in the room with him just in case anything happened. Bobby had protected him today. "No."

"He didn't touch you?"

Jack shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"I don't know? Does that mean yes?"

"I don't remember."

"Jack…" Bobby persisted. "There's no reason for you to hide it."

"I don't remember."

Bobby was tired. He wanted to press the issue but he realized that now was not really the time or the place to do it. Jack hadn't come to him to have a huge conversation and it would probably be better not to try to force him into one. He was serious about the statement though, and knew that tomorrow would have to be focused on getting Jack to do that.

"Last week," Jack pointed out, "you promised no one would hurt me. So how could they, right?"

Bobby turned his head to look at Jack. Jack rolled onto his side, turning his back to him. Bobby realized he'd walked right into that one. But to be honest, he never expected for that promise to be broken. Who would have predicted the previous night?

Bobby didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything to say. He just moved to throw an arm across Jack and pull him closer, against his chest. Jack didn't pull away.

* * *

In the morning, Bobby woke up early and left Jack in bed, finding Evelyn in the kitchen as usual, eating some cereal with a cup of coffee and the morning paper.

"Am I going to leave for work today without anything disastrous happening?" she asked as he sat down across from her.

"God, I hope so. I don't know what's been more unlucky. Me coming home or you leaving for work…"

She laughed. "Let's hope it's something else. Some alignment of the stars or something like that."

"I don't know. Ever since the new project—"

"Bobby," she scolded. "Don't say it."

"He's a tough one. That's all I'm saying!" Bobby laughed, pushing his chair back and getting up again. "Bacon and eggs. That's all I've been thinking about for the past hour since I woke up and didn't want to get out of bed yet."

"You've been getting up so early, Bobby."

"I know." He walked over to the fridge. "Do we even have bacon?"

"And going to bed so late."

"I know." He opened the fridge door and peered in, searching.

She eyed him carefully. "You know trouble sleeping isn't something to take lightly. That's your health we're talking about, Bobby."

"Aw, it's fine. I thought my teeth were your biggest concern."

"All of you is my concern."

He rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm not the one to worry about."

"I worry about all of you, honey. And you can't stop me from worrying."

He shrugged. "Doesn't make me stop trying." He grinned. "There's the bacon. I knew we had bacon."

"Are you going to microwave it or fry it?" she asked. "Angel likes when you fry it."

He grabbed the package from the fridge and turned to give her a smirk. "When Angel can get his black ass out of bed in time for breakfast is when I'll care how he likes it. I'm frying it anyway. But not 'cause of him."

"That's a nice brother…"

He just shook his head, grabbing a steak knife from the drawer to cut open the package with, making Evelyn wince just slightly. "Watch your fingers," she warned.

"I'm real good with knives, Ma, don't worry," he replied.

She watched him silently as he got everything ready at the stove. "Can you do me a favor today, honey?"

"Uh-oh. What kind of favor?"

"Not a big favor. Can you bring Jack for the check-up today?"

Bobby made a face. "Come on, Ma. He doesn't want to do that."

"I know he doesn't want to. I don't even need to ask him to know that. What child _likes _to go to a doctor? But it's important. We don't know if Kevin did anything. The police—"

"I know what the police said," Bobby answered stiffly. "I just don't like being the bad guy."

"You aren't the bad guy. I would do it if didn't have to be at work. And he trusts you, so I thought you would be the obvious person." She paused. "Certainly after you got him out of giving a statement yesterday you could—"

He turned and shook his head. "No. He's still giving a statement. Today he's going to write down everything. And that will be his statement. He's not getting out of that."

"Good. Because it's important."

"I know."

"He's the biggest part of this case."

Bobby nodded. "I know."

"Today should be a lot less stressful, I hope…" she sighed as Bobby turned back to heating up the skillet for the bacon. "I can't imagine what else could possibly happen."

"No one said life at the Mercers was boring, Ma. That's for sure."

She sighed. "I wish it were a different kind of excitement."

"Yeah, kidnapping really isn't fun."

"Can you believe it was just 24 hours ago? I feel like it was last week. Yesterday feels like a week in itself." She took a long sip of her coffee.

"I know."

"But back to the doctor, Bobby. I scheduled an appointment. It's at ten. So if you could get him out of his room and out the door…"

"Halfway there already, Ma," Bobby muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

He threw a few pieces of bacon the skillet, watching the sizzle. Glancing at her, he replied, "He wanted to sleep with me."

She looked surprised. "So I was right in saying he trusts you."

Bobby shrugged. "He had a bad dream."

"And he came to you. That's big, Bobby."

He shrugged. "I guess."

"No, it is. I'm really impressed."

He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the bacon. "Sure."

* * *

"Bobby told me to tell you to get dressed."

Jack stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth tiredly and looked at Angel critically.

"Did you hear me?" Angel said. "I don't know what that face means." He shoved eggs in his mouth. "I'm late for work again."

"I can't," Jack replied.

"Can't what?"

"Get dressed," Jack answered. "I thought about it, and I can't."

Angel looked at him like he was crazy. He stared at Jack's t-shirt and sweats and shrugged. "If you wanna go out of the house like that, then go ahead. I'm sure the hospital won't mind."

"Hospital," Jack echoed. "Who's going to the hospital?"

"You."

The piece of bacon in Jack's hand fell back onto his plate. "Why? I'm not sick."

"No, dumbass. It's to make sure nothing happened to you."

Jack scowled at him. What did Angel know about anything?

Angel shrugged. "Not my plan. That's just was Ma and Bobby said is all. I'm just the messenger."

"Well, I still can't."

"Don't be a baby about it."

"I actually _can't_…" Jack insisted stubbornly.

"Can't go to the hospital, or won't?"

"Can't get dressed."

"You an invalid now?"

Jack paused. "I locked my door."

Angel frowned at him. "What door?"

"My door." Jack pointed up at the ceiling. "Upstairs."

"Your bedroom door?"

Angel asked, shoveling another spoonful of eggs into his mouth. "Like so you can't get in?"

"Yeah."

"I hope you're lying."

"Why?"

"Because that's the stupidest thing ever. Why would you just lock yourself out?"

Jack frowned. It had made perfect sense to him last night. In his plan, when he wanted to keep everyone outside from coming inside.

"Wow, that's so stupid," Angel persisted.

"What's so stupid?" Bobby asked, coming into the kitchen.

Angel shook his head, finishing up the eggs on his plate. "Ask the genius over here."

"What?" Bobby persisted, walking over to dump the skillet from the stove into the sink.

"See, he won't even say it," Angel persisted. He picked up his plate and pushed his chair back. "'Cause it's so stupid."

"Whatever it is," Bobby answered, "you've probably said stupider."

"He locked himself out of his room."

Bobby frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Angel put his plate on top of the skillet. "He locked himself out of his room."

Bobby looked at Jack, who was chewing very slowly at a piece of bacon. "What?"

"Can you drive me to work?" Angel asked.

"I can't, Angel. Not today. What do you mean he locked himself out?"

"Not everything's about him, Bobby. Why can't you drive me?"

"_Because _Angel. I have to take him the doctor. I told you that like a half hour ago."

"I'm going to miss the bus."

"Then I suggest you _move_." Bobby gave him a look.

Angel just rolled his eyes. He headed back to the table to grab his wallet which he'd left. He stuffed it into his pocket and shook his head at Jack. "You're gonna get it."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jack said. "He can drive you to work."

"Nah, he has to break down your door now."

Jack frowned, watching Angel leave. Then he looked over at Bobby, who was starting to put dishes into the dishwasher. Bobby glanced up at him.

"He just kidding me, or what?"

Jack stared at his plate, losing his appetite.

Bobby persisted, "How could you lock your room from down here?"

"I did it before I came down," Jack said softly.

"So you locked your door."

"Do you have a key?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nope. I don't have a key."

"Oh."

"Did you lock it thinking, oh yeah, they have a key, what the hell…"

"No."

"Then why?" Bobby dropped the last dish into the dishwasher and started to walk over to the table.

"To keep him out…" Jack began.

"Who?"

"The _noise_." Jack gave him a look. Did he totally not remember anything Jack had told him last night?

"Noise, Jack?" Bobby sighed and crossed his arms, standing in front of the table. "You locked yourself out of your room for a noise?"

"I _told you_ already."

"No, Jack. You didn't tell me any of this. And now I have to take you somewhere within the hour but you're locked out of your room."

"I don't want to go anyway," Jack retorted, pushing his chair back and picking up his plate.

"You're going. This isn't going to turn into a fight either. And if you need to go in pajamas, so be it. Like the hospital gives a shit."

Jack stared at him irritably. "I'm not sick. I'm not going anywhere."

"I _know_ you're not sick." Jack started to walk away from him and Bobby caught his arm. "_Listen _to me."

Jack pulled away and purposely dropped the plate. Bobby moved and quickly caught it just before it hit the floor. He held it in one hand, and Jack's arm in his other.

"You never quit." Bobby eyed Jack irritably. "What are you doing?" He pulled him over with him to put his sink in the plate. "Does breaking something make you feel better?"

"No…" Jack admitted shakily.

"Then don't do it. In fact, even if it did make you feel better. Don't do it."

"I'm sorry…" Jack persisted, voice quavering.

"Except your window. I gotta break your window."

"Why?"

"Because you locked the door. Did you really lock it?"

Jack nodded.

"Don't you realize that if someone got in through the window, then they could unlock it? On the inside? You locked it on the inside."

"I don't know…" Jack sniffled.

"Don't cry on me…" Bobby tugged his arm. "Wanna watch me break your window?"

"No…"

"Why?"

Jack made a face. "Not if it's gonna make you mad…"

"What's done is done, I guess…" Bobby replied. "I guess I shouldn't have expected today to go without some kind of crisis." He sighed. "Breaking the glass might make me feel better."

"We can wait."

"You're going to the hospital, Jack. Please… Ma asked me to take you. It'll probably go so fast…" He looked at his petulant expression. "Then we'll do whatever you want to do."

"I doubt it…"

"What do you want to do?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know."

"Then yeah. I doubt it." Bobby shook his head and pulled Jack's arm. "Come on. We gotta get you into your room so you can change. We have to leave in twenty minutes."

"Okay."

"Good thing I left that ladder up, huh?" Bobby joked. It didn't go over well. They both realized that if he had taken the ladder down, none of this would be necessary.

* * *

hopefully more very soon. this was kinda long with nothing happening and i didn't proofread so sorry for any mistakes. thanks again for the reviews and I will be getting back to most of you soon. :)  



	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33 **

* * *

Bobby found that breaking the window had actually been satisfying. Whatever he was angry about, he could just put it into breaking the window. He put a towel over his hand and just punched. Jack stood beside the ladder below as Bobby climbed up, a terrified look on his face. Bobby didn't know whether the look was from being scared he would fall, or scared he would get angry again.

To be honest, Bobby had been more frustrated than angry when he found out. Locking yourself out of your room seemed like the stupidest thing anybody could ever do, especially considering Jack's rationale behind it. It was like one thing after the other with this kid.

But then he remembered how scared Jack had been when he came to his room, and how he shivered in his sleep, and whimpered every now and then during the night, and realized it wasn't so stupid after all. He just hadn't really thought it through, and Bobby was guilty of that plenty of times himself.

He couldn't really be mad at a kid acting like a kid.

He'd considered taking the door off the hinges to get in, but wasn't exactly sure where the right tools were, and breaking the window to unlock it and get in seemed like a much easier idea.

And it was just kinda cool to climb up on the ladder and break a window of his own house. Breaking and entering could be fun. But he didn't share that part with Jack.

What wasn't satisfying was convincing Jack to get in the car and go to the hospital. They were running a little bit late as it was. Fortunately, Jack had fallen fairly submissive again once they got back into his room, still a little unsure about how Bobby felt about having to break in.

When they got to the clinic, Jack looked sick. Bobby kind of sympathized. He hated going to the doctor too. And he knew how uncomfortable Jack was with being even slightly scrutinized by anybody, and having a doctor examine you was even worse. Bobby was just relieved Jack wasn't fighting about it.

"You want me to stay outside?" Bobby asked him as they followed the nurse to the exam room.

Jack was pale. He shrugged.

"I'll wait out here then," Bobby answered. "If you need me just get me." He figured Jack would be more comfortable talking without him there. Although, he wasn't very good with strangers and the nurse was certainly a stranger. He put his hand on Jack's head and added, "And please talk to them." He ruffled his hair.

Jack just kind of made a face.

"Right in here," the nurse said, holding Jack's chart to her chest. He had been to this clinic before, so they had all of his files. She was a slightly overweight black woman with tightly braided hair. She pointed to a room to her right. "I'm just going to do your vitals and Dr. Harris will be with us in just a few minutes."

Jack's eyes opened wide. He stopped walking abruptly, causing Bobby to nearly walk right into him.

"What?" Bobby asked.

The nurse just looked at Jack quizzically.

Jack didn't say anything. He just stood there. Then he grabbed Bobby's hand and tugged. "Can we go home now?" he whispered.

"Jack, we just got here…" Bobby objected. He looked at the nurse. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine…" she answered.

"Jack," Bobby said. "What's the matter?" Jack was gripping his hand so hard it almost hurt. Then it clicked. Harris. Dr. Harris. Like Kevin Harris.

He sighed.

"It's a different Harris," Bobby told him. "Is that what you're freaking out over? Come on. It's a pretty popular last name." He looked up at the nurse. "Ma'am, what's Dr. Harris's first name?"

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Julia."

Bobby squeezed Jack's hand. "See, Jack, stop it. Follow her in."

Jack didn't look very convinced. But with a shove from Bobby, he reluctantly followed the nurse into the room. She shut the door behind them. Bobby stood outside and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest. He felt uncomfortable himself. This was such a dry, sterile environment. He looked left and right, at the plain pictures on the white walls, and shuddered.

About five minutes later the nurse came back out and placed Jack's chart into the plastic holder on the back of the door.

"You can wait in the waiting area if you'd like…" she suggested as she saw Bobby.

"No, it's okay," Bobby answered. "I'd rather wait here. Just in case."

She nodded. "That's fine."

When she disappeared down the hall, Bobby eyed the chart on the door curiously. A moment later, he pushed himself off the wall and slowly walked over to take it out. He glanced down the hall as he opened it, feeling a little wrong for looking but more nosy than anything else.

Name. Date of birth. Name of mother. Name and whereabouts of father unknown. All of the standard dossier information was there. He skimmed through that, turning the page.

There were dates of previous clinic visits, with details. Bobby began to read through them, becoming completely engulfed. Even though Ma had given him Jack's background, a Cliff's note version, seeing the doctor's notes written out and the technical terms somehow made things more … real. More unsettling. It was like watching a train wreck. He couldn't pull himself away.

One of the pages had pictures, documenting specific injuries. Bobby just stared, not able to completely absorb it. They looked like pictures you would see on TV or in some movie as evidence.

"Excuse me, that's confidential."

Bobby nearly dropped the file. Startled, he quickly turned back to the first page and closed the file. He handed it to the middle-aged woman in a white coat suddenly standing behind him and tried to apologize.

"I… I'm sorry… I'm his brother."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Adopted brother," he explained. "I brought him here. I'm sorry, I just got curious."

She nodded, tucking the folder under her arm. "It's okay. I understand the curiosity, especially since it is confidential. See anything interesting?"

He made a face. "Uh… You could say that."

She nodded. "He's in good hands, don't worry. This is going to be just a simple evaluation, it shouldn't take very long."

"Okay." Bobby nodded, rubbing at his jaw and realizing he hadn't shaved. "Um, he's pretty quiet. But, he'll talk if you give him time. I know you need to touch him… But just…"

"I know," she assured him. "Don't worry. I gave him his physical right before Evelyn took him in. So I really just saw him a very short time ago."

"Oh okay. He didn't seem to recognize your name…"

She smiled. "I don't think he paid much attention to me, to be honest."

"Yeah." Bobby nodded. "I know the feeling."

"You want to come in?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No… No, I think it's better if I just wait out here. If you need me, just let me know."

"Okay. I won't be long."

Bobby just sighed as she entered the room and took his spot back leaning against the wall.

* * *

"I told you I wasn't sick."

Bobby put the car in drive and looked over to catch Jack's scowl. "Yeah, well you didn't tell me you already knew that doctor."

"I don't."

"She said she'd seen you before."

"I don't know."

"You don't know much, do you?"

Jack was silent. Bobby just shook his head and put the car in reverse. "Told you it wouldn't take long." He backed out of the parking spot.

"You spent five dollars on parking and I wasn't even sick."

Bobby looked at him again. "Are you _trying _to be a pain?"

"Just saying…"

"I mean, between the broken window, the five dollars on parking, the gas I used up to drive you here…" Bobby replied. "I oughtta make you walk home."

Jack made a face. "If you want me to."

"Don't you know when I'm full of shit?" Bobby muttered. "You gotta lot to learn still, huh?"

"Should I get out?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "No. In fact, lock your door." He paused. "Hey, I have an idea. I'm gonna teach you to shoot my gun." He looked over at Jack's sullen face. He didn't seem excited by the idea. "Want to?"

"Now?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Okay."

"Well, I told you we'd do what you want to. But I don't know what you want to do, and I just remembered I promised you that."

Jack was kind of unnerved by the idea. Last time he'd touched Bobby's gun he thought Bobby was going to explode. "Who are we going to shoot?"

Bobby laughed. "Who? Oh, if only you knew that I actually had a list…"

"Am I on it?"

"Yes." Bobby rolled his eyes again. "Yes, you are."

"Have you shot anybody?"

Bobby shrugged. "Don't ask me these questions."

"Does that mean yes?"

"What do you want the answer to be?"

Jack made a face. "I don't know. I just don't see why you would have a gun if you didn't ever use it."

"Smart boy."

"Have you killed anybody?"

Bobby stopped at the stop sign, just short of exiting the parking lot. "Have you?"

"No. But I saw someone die. Kevin ran over my dog once."

Bobby frowned. "Are you kidding?"

"No." Jack paused. "He said it was an accident."

"Yeah…"

"He didn't die right away. We didn't have a car, so we couldn't go to a vet."

Bobby grimaced. "Jack."

"Our driveway had this big red stain on it. And it didn't rain for like two weeks."

"That's disgusting."

"You get all, like, stiff when you die. Or Tiger did. That was my dog. My mom was all stiff too, I remember. When they found her."

Bobby glanced over at Jack. Jack was running his finger along the outside of the glove compartment, a complacent look on his face.

"Is this really what you want to talk about?" Bobby asked.

Jack looked at him. "I'm hungry."

Bobby shook his head. "Will I ever figure you out?"

"What?" Jack asked. He looked at the car radio clock. "Most people get hungry at noon."

Bobby just sighed. Bizarrely, it was one of Jack's more talkative times. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to respond. Stories about dead pets and suicidal mothers made Bobby feel unequipped to carry on the conversation. He never even met his own mother. He didn't know if Jack missed his, or what that would feel like. In his mind, Evelyn was more than he could ask for in a mother, and he wished that Jack would see that too.

Dr. Harris had only talked to him very briefly outside while Jack was getting dressed. She didn't give him many details for his physical condition, which he assumed meant he wasn't in bad shape. She didn't have time to say much with Jack coming out in a minute, but she talked mostly about how she would recommend Jack continuing to see his counselor, which she'd apparently talked to Evelyn about. That was something Evelyn hadn't mentioned to Bobby, but he wasn't surprised, considering everything else that was going on and Bobby's dislike for anyone of a psychiatric background.

"I don't have to be hungry," Jack spoke up as he noticed Bobby's silence.

"Huh?" Bobby answered. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. Don't be stupid. I'm kind of hungry anyway. We could combine the gun and food thing. Want to go hunt our lunch?"

Jack gave him a curious look.

"Another joke," Bobby explained. "A really bad one."

* * *

At Burger King, Jack was restless, sticking so close to Bobby that he almost tripped over him a few times. Jerry had teased him last week about Jack becoming his shadow, but he didn't really realize how true it was. Over the short time Jack had been with them, he had certainly latched onto Bobby the most, and Bobby had ignored it at first, persistently telling Evelyn he didn't have time for a kid, but now it kind of felt like an obligation to be his keeper, especially after what had happened yesterday.

He didn't know whether it was the doctor's visit, or yesterday, or the combination of everything, but Jack was certainly edgy again.

"Good?" Bobby watched Jack slide a few fries across the blob of ketchup in front of him.

Jack nodded.

"You like fast food?"

Jack shrugged.

"Why do you get so quiet?" Bobby asked.

Jack shrugged again, stuffing more fries into his mouth, almost as an excuse not to answer.

Bobby stared at the smudge of ketchup on Jack's chin. "You know, believe it or not, most people want to hear what you have to say, you know that? Not everyone's a bad guy." He sighed. "Do you think I'm a bad guy?"

Jack conveniently took a huge bite of his burger and shrugged again.

"Do you?"

Jack finally spoke, after swallowing hard. "Why do you have a gun?"

"Collateral."

"What's that mean?"

"What do you want me to say? I carry it because I think it's cool?"

"If that's the reason."

"Well, the real reason is…" Bobby trailed off. What was he supposed to say? That he's used it? That sometimes he plays the role of tough guy? That he'd been to jail? That sometimes he has to bail people out, or himself out, and that there was a reason he wasn't an outstanding perfect citizen. "I just need it."

"I needed my knife."

Bobby took a sip of his soda. "No, you don't."

"I do."

"Have you ever used it?"

Jack hesitated. Then reluctantly he shook his head. "I've wanted to. But I tried once, and it just made it really, really worse."

"Well, then you don't need it. That's exactly it. Threatening somebody is just gonna make them threaten you back with something worse."

"Then why do you have a gun?" Jack asked again.

"To threaten back with," Bobby laughed.

"Then I need my knife back."

"No, you don't."

Jack looked at him for a minute and then leaned into the table and said quietly, "I need to go to the bathroom."

Bobby leaned forward and whispered back, "Then go." He pointed to the bathroom not far from the registers.

"What if somebody's in there?"

"Well, there might be. It's got more than one," Bobby answered.

"What if…" Jack trailed off.

Bobby reached across the table and roughly wiped off the ketchup from Jack's chin. "You need to grow some balls, Jack. If you need to go, then go."

Jack looked at him as though worried Bobby was disappointed with him. "I don't like when other people are there."

"People gotta do their business, Jack. If you need to take a piss, then take a piss. I'm not gonna walk you in there."

"I don't _want _you to," Jack answered.

"Good." Bobby ate a few fries. "You're eleven years old. You're plenty big to handle that yourself." He remembered Angel walking into the bathroom while Jack was showering and how terrified Jack had been. It was something that Bobby, Jerry, and Angel didn't even think about. They never tried to lock the door, and frequently walked in on each other when they needed something. No big deal. Such was life. Jack on the other hand seemed completely enamored with privacy.

Jack just sat there. He broke off a piece of his burger distractedly.

"What?" Bobby asked him. "Go if you need to go."

"I can wait," Jack answered.

"Jackie. Don't be a baby."

"I'm not," Jack answered defensively.

"Then stop being so stupid over using a bathroom." Bobby stared at him. Jack's eyes were shining, like he was going to cry any minute. "Jackie," he persisted. "It's a bathroom. Not a dungeon. You don't gotta cry over it."

Jack said nothing. He stared down at his food.

Bobby sighed, exasperated. How did people deal with this? Frustrated, he pulled out his gun, which was tucked into his back waistband, hidden by his jacket, and slid it across the table to in front of Jack. "Here, bring this in there. No one will fucking go near you then." He said it jokingly, but all he got was a gasp from a woman sitting at a table a few feet from them. He gave the lady a complacent look, but she just shook her head and turned back to her food.

"No," Jack said.

"Good, because I wasn't serious." Bobby took it back and quickly returned it to his safe and out of sight spot. "God, Jackie, just go."

"I don't need to go anymore."

"Unless you just pissed yourself, which would be another issue, then I think you're lying," Bobby answered.

Jack looked sullen.

"The only person I ever knew who wouldn't use the public restroom was this prissy bitch I dated in high school. God, she was miserable." Bobby shook his head. "Her reason was germs. I don't think that's your reason, thank God." Not that any other reason was acceptable either, he thought.

"I told you," Jack persisted. "I don't like other people being in there."

"I haven't seen anyone go in or out for a while, buddy."

Jack looked unconvinced. "What if someone is waiting in there?"

"People have better places to stalk out than a Burger King bathroom, kiddo. Let's be serious." He paused. "When was the last time you went into a bathroom like that?"

"Like a month ago…"

"And it was fine?" Bobby asked, trying to prove his point. He couldn't believe they were arguing about using a public restroom.

"I didn't want to go, but he made me."

"Who?"

"The person I was with then."

"What do you mean he made you?"

"I didn't want to, and he told me I was stupid, and made me go in. And there were other people there, and they all stared at me." Jack made a face, remembering.

"I'm not going to make you do anything. I hope you know that. And no one's gonna stare at you." He paused. "How about… On the way out in a few minutes, I'll check if anyone's in there and then you can go. Okay? And I'll wait outside."

Jack made a face. Then he said. "Okay."

"Okay. Most ridiculous deal I've ever made." Bobby smirked.

Jack was quiet, and then suddenly he smiled. "I know what I want to do now."

Bobby raised his eyebrows at the sudden change in Jack's demeanor. "Pee?"

"There's a store. With guitars. I walked there." Jack stirred the blob of ketchup with his finger. "I want to go there."

"Okay. We can do that."

Jack smiled. Bobby wasn't sure he'd seen him smile before. He just watched him, trying to read his mind.

**

* * *

**

Watching Jack in the guitar shop was like watching a completely different Jack. This time Bobby followed Jack around, hands stuffed into his pockets, knowing nothing about the different types of guitars Jack gawked at it with wide, bright eyes.

"Hey, son," an old man began as he walked by. He wore a Jack Daniel's hat with grayish hair poking out from beneath. "I remember you. Let me know if you wanna play with anything."

Jack just nodded dumbly, not looking at him, just running his finger down the fingerboard of the guitar in front of him.

"This is where you walked to that day?" Bobby asked him.

Jack didn't answer. It was like he was in a different world. Bobby was just amazed, because this place wasn't an easy walk from where they lived. It was certainly doable, but it was a long walk. He was kind of impressed. Jack had so many random fears, but he had no problem with just wandering off for a mile at a time.

"He play?" the old man asked Bobby.

"Uh… I don't know…" Bobby answered honestly. He looked up at the man.

"He knows them. He respects them. I rarely see a kid his age with a look in his eye like that."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah." Jack had walked off to the next aisle and he watched him for a minute.

"He has a good ear too…" the man continued. "Saw him in here just once before, not long ago, but I remember. He was strumming one. I think that one by the wall over there. And I just walk by him and he turns and he says, it's not tuned. I kind of ignored it… We tune the ones on display constantly… But sure enough. I check once he leaves. And sure enough, it's just slightly out of tune."

Bobby smirked. He wasn't sure if he was more impressed with discovering Jack's apparent musical ear, or the fact that Jack had said something to a complete stranger in a random store.

"How much are they?" Bobby asked.

The man pointed to the displays. "Depends on each one. We got a pretty wide range here, whether, say, acoustic or electric. Nylon or steel. You know?"

Bobby had no idea what he was talking about. But he saw that each guitar on display had a little price tag in front of it. He squinted at the one closest to him and was shocked. He had no idea guitars were that expensive.

"Thanks," Bobby answered.

"Yup." The store phone started to ring from behind the counter several feet away and the man nodded at him before walking off. "Have fun."

Bobby caught back up with Jack, who was looking at another kind of guitar, which looked really different than the ones Bobby had just been standing next to.

"Hey." Bobby tugged Jack's sleeve. "What are these? Acoustic?"

Jack gave Bobby a look like he was absolutely insane. "Don't you see them? And look at the amps."

"So they're not?"

"No," Jack answered.

"You play?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know."

Bobby followed him as he continued to walk around the store. "Well usually you do or you don't."

Jack didn't answer.

Then suddenly Bobby remembered something. "You know Danny?" he asked Jack.

"I don't know." Jack frowned.

"Jenna's brother."

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"Danny's got a guitar at his place that he doesn't even touch anymore. I know he still has it, because I saw it last time we were there. Do you want it?"

Jack remembered the dark room in the basement with the shaggy blue carpet and album covers all over the wall. He remembered Dan, and the music playing when they went to see him. He didn't really know Dan. Jenna had been nice to him though. He thought about the situation he'd been in while Jenna helped him and felt a little sick.

Bobby continued. "He's one of my best friends. And if I asked him, I don't see any reason why he wouldn't let you have it. Considering he doesn't touch it anymore, and would rather somebody use it. He's pretty easy-going like that, you know?"

Jack didn't know. He barely knew the guy.

"Want to stop there on the way home, and I'll ask him?"

Jack looked at the guitar in front of him and then nodded. "Yeah."

"Cool." Bobby smiled.

"Cool," Jack echoed.

* * *


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34 **

**

* * *

**

"Where'd you get that?"

Jack looked up at Angel from his seat on the couch with the guitar in his lap. He was startled; he hadn't heard anyone walk into the room. He'd been pretty focused on the guitar, and trying to remember everything he already knew. He was confused by Angel now standing above him with an intent look.

"Did you hear me?" Angel persisted. "Where'd you get that?"

"Bobby," Jack answered softly.

Angel frowned. "Are you kidding? Bobby can't afford that." He turned to the kitchen and yelled, "Bobby!"

"What?" Bobby emerged from the kitchen, where he'd been talking to Evelyn.

"What'd ya get me?" Angel asked.

"Huh?"

Angel made a face. "You got him a guitar. You get anybody else something? I didn't know it was Christmas."

Standing face to face with Angel, Bobby frowned. "Here. This is what I got you." He reached up and slapped him upside his head. "Don't be an ass."

"Well, where'd you get it?" Angel rubbed at his head. "You knock over another convenience store?"

"Yeah." Bobby rolled his eyes. "Me and Jack. How'd you know…?"

"I'm serious," Angel persisted. "Where'd you get it?"

"Danny."

"Danny?"

"Yeah. It's his."

"And he didn't want it anymore?"

"No. And no I didn't get you anything. It wasn't like he was having a full blowout giveaway."

"Why'd he give it to him?"

"Because I asked him."

"Why?"

Bobby sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because. Jack wanted it."

Angel frowned. "How come he gets what he wants? I remember when I asked you for something… Got me nothing and then got my head bashed in a little later."

Bobby laughed. "Completely different situation…"

"Why do you laugh at that?"

Bobby shook his head. "What are you getting upset about, Angel? Because I got the kid something? Come on…"

"You can have it if you want…" Jack said tentatively, sensing an oncoming argument and wanting to rid himself of it.

"No, Jack," Bobby said.

"I don't want a fucking guitar," Angel replied. "That's not my point."

"Then tell me what your point is and get over it," Bobby replied.

"My point…" Angel began. "Is just that…" He lowered his voice as he shot a look over at Jack, who wasn't even looking at them but staring at his shoes. "Me 'n Jerry. We don't see as much of you anymore. Like, you're home for once, and we don't even see you."

"Well, you finally have a job, and Jerry being all over Camille…" Bobby answered. "You want me to come to work with you? Be a third wheel with Jer?"

"That's not my point."

"You keep saying that. I don't get what your point is, Angel."

"It's him. I mean, we like him too and all, Bobby. But it's always you defending him, or taking him somewhere, or just spending all day with him."

Bobby's brow furrowed. "God forbid…" he said in a low voice, so that only he and Angel could hear, "that I have to take him to the fucking hospital… to see if he'd been molested. God forbid I spend half of my day doing that."

Angel didn't blink. "That's not what I'm talking about. It's the other times."

"He's been here what? One week?"

"So?"

"So how many other times could there be? What's the real problem, Angel?"

Angel shook his head. "Fine. Nothing."

Bobby caught his arm before he could walk away. He studied his brother, at the faded bruise around his eye, and gave him a stern look. "What else is it? Is this just jealousy?"

"I'm not jealous of him," Angel answered.

"I hope not." Bobby grew frustrated. Sometimes he just wished that he could read minds. Angel and him got along well, but often clashed like this, their personalities severely different yet sharing some key similarities. They both always struggled to get the upper hand in their frequent arguments. Bobby tried because he felt entitled to it. Angel fought for it because he wanted to prove his independence to Bobby.

"He's just a kid," Angel retorted. "What's there to be jealous of?"

"Exactly. He's just a kid. And think about what happened yesterday to him and give him a little slack, man, okay?"

"I'm not giving him a hard time, Bobby."

"Maybe not, but you don't have to give me a hard time either."

"It's just…" Angel sighed. "I understand he got hurt. I understand he's just been here a week. I know what happened yesterday. I'm not stupid. But you don't have to treat him like the golden child. Shit happened to me too, and also recently, and you didn't care half as much as you do for him."

Bobby sighed. It was jealousy. As much as Angel tried to mask it with something else, the truth was just obvious. That frustrated Bobby immensely. "Come on." He tugged Angel's arm. "Come with me." He walked back to the kitchen.

Angel followed reluctantly. He watched Bobby go over to the stove, to check on the spaghetti he was boiling in a large pot. Evelyn was on the phone, sitting at the table, and looked up at them briefly as they came in. After stirring it around with a large spoon, Bobby turned back to Angel. He still spoke quietly,

"This isn't some popularity contest. You know I'm there for you whenever you need it, Angel. Jerry and I helped you take care of what you needed taken care of last week. Remember? Most of your problems are problems _you _created. You. But I help you anyway."

Angel turned defensive. "Why do you always think it's my fault?"

"Because often it _is_, Ang…" Bobby sighed. "I'm not saying that to be a dick about it. It's just true. You're like me. I cause my own shit too. I'm not proud of it but at least I'll admit it."

"That's not—"

"Not your point?" Bobby asked. "C'mon. What is this? He's just a little kid. My goal was to get his trust. I'm getting it. It's convenient that I'm the one to take care of him. You wanna trade spots with him?"

"No, Bobby."

"It's been one week, Ang. A lot has changed for him in just one week. I really don't know what you're complaining about."

"I'm not complaining."

"Well, then whatever you want to call it." Bobby sighed.

"You just like him because he follows you around."

"Why would I want a little kid to follow me around, Angel?"

Angel shrugged. "I don't know. You act like you like it."

"Look, I don't know what you want me to tell you. Half the time I want to strangle him, just like any of you. I don't understand what's going through his head, I don't know when he's happy or not, I don't know what he wants."

"Yeah you do. He wanted a guitar."

Bobby smirked. "Whatever. Don't you get my point?"

"No."

"Angel, if you need me, if Jerry needs me, if Jack needs me… It's not any different. He just happens to need more right now. But when have I said no to you?"

Angel paused. "Last week."

"Borrowing money from me, money that I don't even have, is not needing me," Bobby pointed out. "And it's not like I bought him a guitar. It's Danny's. I'm not the type to randomly buy shit for people."

Angel was about to reply but he heard Evelyn ending her conversation on the telephone and decided to hold his tongue. She eyed them critically as she got up to hang up the phone.

"What are you boys fighting about now…?" she asked carefully.

"Who loves you more, Ma," Bobby replied.

"Sweetheart, pretending to bullshit me has never been convincing or funny."

"Sometimes it is," he replied. "I caught a little bit of a smile."

"We're not actually fighting," Angel interjected. "We're just talking."

"About what?" Evelyn persisted.

"How much we love you," Bobby answered.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Bobby."

He simply smiled at her.

"It's nothing," Angel insisted with a sigh. "We're done anyway."

"Well, good, because I need to talk to Bobby about how it went at the hospital today," Evelyn answered. "And I'd like to do it before we all have dinner."

"Sure." Bobby caught Angel's rolled eyes and gave him a look. "Okay with you, Angel?"

"Sure, of course," Angel answered casually. "I'll be inside."

Evelyn eyed Bobby. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah…" he answered. "More or less."

* * *

Jack looked up again when Angel returned and sat down beside him. He hesitated. He still wasn't sure what to make of Angel. He was nice enough to him, but their conversations were typically short and ended awkwardly. Half the time, Jack just found Angel to be scrutinizing him or asking questions. The other half of the time, Jack found him to be kind of bossy.

"Can you play?" Angel asked, indicating the guitar.

"A little," Jack admitted.

"Where'd you learn?"

"I don't know."

Angel gave him a critical look. "How do you not know?"

"Do you want to play?" Jack offered him the guitar, holding it up.

Angel shook his head. "I don't know the slightest thing about guitars." He paused. "But thanks."

"I have to tune it."

"Again… Have no clue," Angel answered.

Jack didn't say anything.

"Guess there's rewards to following around Bobby after all, huh?" Angel asked him.

Jack glanced at him but didn't say anything. Angel was reaching for the remote control to turn on the TV. Jack was kind of relieved when the sound of the TV replaced the feeling of awkward silence in their conversation.

"How was the hospital?" Angel asked, putting on a baseball game.

"I wasn't sick."

"Oh, no shit?" Angel replied sarcastically. "Shocking." At Jack's silence, he persisted. "So what did they tell you then?"

"I don't know," Jack replied.

"You say that a lot. They must've told you something."

"No."

"Nothing at all? That's weird, huh?"

"Yeah…" Carefully, Jack tried to change the subject. "How was work…?"

"Fine."

Jack paused. "I just don't wanna talk about it."

"What, my day at work?"

"No. The hospital."

Angel noticed the discomfort in Jack's voice and posture and realized that he probably wasn't coming off as very friendly and tried to change his tone. "I'm surprised Bobby even took you. He hates hospitals," Angel said. "Like really, really hates hospitals."

"Why would anyone like a hospital?" Jack asked.

"True," Angel answered. "It's just Bobby never complains more than when he's near a doctor." He smirked for a moment. "Or near a cop."

Jack hesitated responding considering he'd caused Bobby to be near both those things in the past two days. He hadn't meant to do that at all. As though reading his mind, Angel gave Jack a slight push and said,

"Well, when it's his fault. Like when he's in trouble. He don't mind it with you, I'm sure, else he wouldn't've gone."

Jack paused. "Do they always take pictures at doctor's?"

"Pictures? Of what?"

"Like of what happened. They always do that?"

"I guess if they need a record…" Angel answered slowly. "What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing really." Jack shook his head. "I don't know."

Angel studied Jack and the way he hugged the guitar to his chest. He looked so nervous. He started to see why Bobby kept trying to protect him. "Did that dude touch you?" Angel asked.

"Uh…" Jack started. "I don't know."

"I heard Bobby kicked his ass…" Angel persisted. "I wish I could've seen that. Was it cool?"

"I don't know."

"Bobby used to box a lot. He's a pretty good fighter. Actually that's what keeps getting him in trouble when he plays hockey. He's real good but the league doesn't really like how mad he gets," he explained. "But the dude must've done something for Bobby to fight him like that."

Jack just shrugged.

"Not that it takes a lot for him to fight," Angel laughed. "He tried to fight Jerry once because Jerry ate the rest of the Mac 'n Cheese that was in the fridge." He looked at Jack's wary expression and explained, "It was actually hilarious. Trust me. He's got no patience at all. But once you know that you just ignore it and it's fine."

"Ignore it?"

"Yeah." Angel shrugged. "He doesn't stay mad at family, you know? You'll figure it out. We all fuck up at some point." He paused. "So why'd you ask him for a guitar?"

"I didn't."

"He asked you if you wanted it?"

"We were in a guitar shop."

"That's very… not Bobby. I don't think he knows a guitar from a piano." He looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat to see Bobby walking back out of the kitchen.

"I'm not that stupid," Bobby answered, pushing Angel over to sit between him and Jack. "One's got keys."

"Yeah, which one?" Angel shot back.

"Very funny," Bobby muttered. "I bet I could shove both of them up your ass."

"I was telling Jack how you almost killed Jerry over Macaroni and Cheese."

"Highly exaggerated…" was all Bobby responded. "Speaking of food... Dinner's almost ready."

* * *

"Can I sleep with you?"

Bobby looked at the clock. It was two o'clock in the morning. He was sitting, watching TV sleeplessly downstairs, when Jack wandered into the almost dark room and approached him meekly.

Bobby stared at him. He had the same, wide-eyed nervous look, and Bobby just sighed. "Is this a habit now?"

"No."

"Then what is this?"

Jack was gripping the bottom hem of his t-shirt uneasily, pulling at it. "There's a hole in my window."

"I know. I put it there this morning. Remember?"

"And then you could unlock the window."

"The ladder's gone, Jack," Bobby answered. "It's in the garage."

"So? It wasn't there to begin with."

"No one else is gonna put a ladder up."

"How do you know?"

Bobby tried to think about how he could possibly win this argument. There was really no way. "Go sleep with Ma."

Jack made a face and shook his head. "She'll get mad."

"And I won't? She won't get mad. Her bed's bigger too."

"No." Jack shook his head again. "I wanna sleep with you."

"Why?"

"You have a gun," Jack admitted.

Bobby rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. "Jack, come on… I'll fix the broken window tomorrow, okay? Just forget about it."

"No."

"Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," Jack objected.

"Then why do you wanna sleep with me?"

"To be careful."

"Jack. Kevin is gone."

"I don't know. I didn't tell the police yet."

Bobby sighed. That was the other thing he'd meant to do today. Hospital and statement. Those were the two priorities. And he'd forgotten one. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"You can write your statement tomorrow."

Jack began to look more worried. "What about tonight?"

"What _about _tonight?" Bobby shook his head. "It's two o'clock in the morning, Jack."

"Why can't I sleep with you?"

"_Because_," Bobby answered, realizing he didn't have a very good, not annoyed answer. He reached out and took Jack's wrist, tugging him forward. "Sit, watch some TV with me, take a sedative, go back upstairs…"

"No…" Jack objected.

Bobby pulled him by his arm and forced him to sit next to him. "I'm lying about the sedative. That's probably not a good idea." He slung his arm around Jack's shoulders. "Just sit a bit. You'll get tired. It's late."

"It's not that I'm not tired," Jack tried to explain.

"You know what I just thought. You better not have locked your door again," Bobby answered.

"I didn't."

"Good. I'm not going up on that ladder again."

"I just… I just don't want to sleep there…"

"I told you I'll fix the window. But nothing's going to happen in the meantime. You want me to sleep in your room and you sleep in mine?"

"No…" Jack insisted. "No."

"Jack. It's late."

Jack just sulked and didn't reply, staring at the TV. Bobby sighed, keeping his arm around him. It was hard for him to tell Jack nothing would happen considering the unthinkable had happened. But they had just been through this last night.

"Can't you think of something else while you're trying to sleep, Jack?"

"_NO_."

Well at least he's honest, Bobby thought to himself. "When this show is over, I'm going to bed," he told him. "In ten minutes."

"I don't want to sleep upstairs," Jack persisted quietly.

"When _are_ you going to want to sleep upstairs? When I fix your window?"

"Yeah."

"You promise?"

"Yeah."

Bobby sighed. Jack didn't sound overly convincing with a kind of shaky 'yeah'. He felt the same way as he had the night before though. It was hard to be angry at him for not wanting to sleep in his room considering what had happened. But he didn't want it to continue like this every single night. And he wasn't sure whether Jack was using the window as an excuse, or the ladder as an excuse…

"And what happens when tomorrow you do this again?" Bobby asked.

"I won't…" Jack promised.

"Okay."

"Okay, I can?"

"I guess…" Bobby answered.

"Are you mad?" Jack frowned.

"No. I'm tired."

"You're not mad?"

"No. You don't have to ask me twice." Bobby shook his head and then yawned. "Tomorrow I fix your window, you write your statement, and we'll all sleep well, okay?"

"Yeah."

"And then we'll start to have a little less stressful of a week, how about that?"

"Yeah."

Bobby yawned again. He really hoped he was right.

* * *

**Okay, I'm going to be honest. I am going to try to make this end soon, within the week, with maybe just one more chapter, maybe more… Thanks again, guys! **


	35. Chapter 35

**You know, one of my biggest difficulties as a writer is ending things. Whenever I write, my stories tend to be extremely long and drawn out, not necessarily with a lot of plot, and with less twists and turns than I'd hoped for, but usually a lot of conversation and attempted detail. Since I continue past the huge crisis it's hard to then 'resolve' things for an ending… Especially in the case of a story like this where overnight Jack's not suddenly going to be the guy he is when the movie starts. And if I continued up to that point it would take a million chapters.**

**With that stated, I'm going to try to end things with this chapter. Probably not well, but we'll see. **

**I'm hoping to write a bunch of 'short' stories that will have the same basis as this one. I mean, whatever happened in this one would kind of be the background for the shorts, but they would not be dependent on this one. They would all be stand alones.**

**We'll see what happens.

* * *

**

**Chapter 35

* * *

**

Jack sat at the kitchen table with several pieces of paper and several pens and pencils. Bobby told him that the chances of all the pens running out of ink and all the pencils breaking was so impossible that he better not even think about it as an excuse. Jack tried to explain that he didn't want to make any excuses, but Bobby just grumpily left him there to try to fix the window upstairs.

"Whatcha doing?" Jerry sat down at the table across from him, biting into an apple.

"Nothing." Jack glanced down nervously at the first sheet of paper. So far all he'd written was one line.

Jerry looked at the paper and tried to read it upside down. All it said was, 'I could'nt sleep'.

"It's d-n-apostrophe-t," Jerry told him. "Not d-apostrophe-n-t."

"Huh?"

"You spelled 'couldn't' wrong. Or you just put the apostrophe wrong. What are you writing anyway?" Jerry took another crunching bite into his apple.

Jack started erasing.

Jerry frowned. "Why are you erasing the whole thing? It was a really little part that was wrong."

"The whole thing's wrong." The eraser broke off the pencil as he continued to erase and Jack stopped, staring at the now smudged paper sadly.

"There wasn't much there to be wrong… Well, what are you writing?"

"Nothing."

"Well, nothing now…" Jerry agreed. "Am I bugging you? I'll go away."

Jack looked at him quizzically. No one had ever asked him if they were bugging him before. Or offered to go away. He wasn't sure how to respond. "It's my statement," he tried to explain. "For the police."

"Ohh…" Jerry answered, and Jack was glad he knew what he was talking about, because he didn't want to explain. "I can leave you alone."

"Some of it," Jack started slowly, unsurely. "I'm not sure if it's real or not."

"What do you mean?" Jerry had almost gotten up but now he stayed seated in the chair, giving Jack a quizzical look. The kid's shaggy hair had fallen into his eyes, and Jerry thought about how it was weird Ma hadn't made him get a haircut yet. Although that was probably the least of their worries.

"I mean…" Jack started slowly. "I don't know if I dreamt a lot of it."

"Like what?"

Jack opened his mouth as if to reply and then hesitated, shutting it again. He ran his finger back and forth across the edge of the table. "I don't know. I just feel like I dreamt parts of it."

"Well, maybe you dreamt about what actually happened."

"What if it changed in my dreams?"

"You can't tell the difference between dreams and reality?"

"Sometimes," Jack admitted. "Sometimes it's hard. Don't you ever have really, real dreams?"

Jerry paused. This was the longest he'd really gotten to talk to Jack alone, and he wanted him to keep talking. He wanted to learn something about him, like Bobby had in the past week. Bobby seemed like he'd completely cracked the Jack code and had figured him out. They seemed a lot alike, maybe that was why. Bobby had kind of just taken him under his wing to protect and figure out, and had succeeded.

"I do," Jerry admitted. "But I usually wake up halfway through them, and I know that they're not actually real."

Jack just frowned.

"Some people have better imaginations," Jerry persisted, noting Jack's worried face. "I haven't had a great imagination in a long time."

"I don't want to lie," Jack explained.

"I doubt it'll be a lie. In fact, I'm willing to bet that most everything in your head has a basis in something. And is certainly based on the truth."

"A lot of things are _based_ on truth… And aren't true."

"True," Jerry answered. "You're a smart kid."

"Not if I can't figure out what to write down." Jack pushed the paper away, glaring at the large smudge on the first line.

"That's nothing."

"Bobby will be mad."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "If Bobby's mad over that, then he's gotta be committed."

"Committed like an insane person?"

Jerry laughed. "Uh-huh. Where is he now, anyway?"

"I didn't know he's insane."

Jerry studied Jack's slightly nervous expression and laughed again. "Jack. He's not. I'm teasing. Now, where is he?"

"Window."

"Huh?"

"He's fixing my window."

"Oh… Right."

Jack chewed on his thumbnail. "Is he mad about that?"

Jerry shrugged. "Who cares if he is? It's a window. I think he liked breaking it. Bobby likes breaking things. Fixing things on the other hand… He's not so fond of that." He watched how nervous Jack looked. "What's the matter?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothin'."

"I know I haven't talked to you too much…" Jerry began. "But if you wanna talk about it, whatever _it _is... then you can talk to me. "

"How's Camille?"

"Is that your attempt to change the subject?"

Jack froze. He then started to chew his nails again.

"Camille's great. I'm just saying." Jerry shrugged.

"Are you gonna marry her?"

He smiled. "I don't know. Maybe someday."

"Do you talk about it?"

Jerry raised his eyebrows. "You sound like Ma… But yeah… Sometimes."

Jack didn't know what to ask next. He didn't know much about girls, or getting married, or anything like that. So he didn't know what other types of questions would come up. Which was bad, because then it left the conversation open for Jerry to ask him something. His attempt to lead things away from talking about himself was over. He stiffened a little, waiting.

"What are you so anxious about?" Jerry asked gently. "Bobby's not mad at you."

"I know."

"Then what?"

"I don't know."

"But you feel nervous?"

Jack shrugged. He kind of did. He guessed he kind of looked like it too. "I guess."

"Well, you had a crazy week. All the change. Coming here was just the beginning, I suppose. You like it here?"

Jack shrugged again. "I guess."

"Well, what don't you like?"

Jack shrugged.

Jerry rolled his eyes. "For a smart kid, you're sure hard to talk to, huh? Don't shrug."

Jack caught himself mid-shrug and stiffened. Jerry just took another bite of his apple and chewed quietly. After he swallowed, he said, "You want me to try to help you with the report?" He pointed to the paper.

"You weren't there."

"I know. But… Yeah, I guess you're right. You wanna talk to Bobby about it?"

"No."

"He was there for part of it, right?"

"Sort of." Jack shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. I'll write it." He picked up another pencil. Then he just sat there, unsurely. "Who do they show it to? Will he see it?"

"Who's he?"

"Kevin."

"It's all private. It's for police records. So they know what happened exactly. So they can charge him for everything."

"But… If they let him go again. They do the restraining order again, but…"

"It was kidnapping this time, Jack." Jerry paused. "I don't think it's going to go so simply."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me." Jerry watched him tap the pencil on the same smudged piece of paper. He wasn't sure if Jack trusted him at all, and didn't really want to ask.

"I just don't want him to know what I wrote," Jack explained. "He won't like it. He won't like it all."

"He's never going to see you again."

"That's what Bobby said."

Jerry sighed. "I know, Jack… C'mon. Nobody saw what happened coming for a mile."

Jack didn't know. He didn't blame anyone in particular for what happened, other than himself. It wasn't really their fault. Letting him in their home hadn't changed the past. It never would.

"Hey."

Jack looked up. Jerry was giving him a funny look.

"What do you think about when you get that look?" Jerry asked.

"What look?"

"You know. That look. When you're in like a different world. What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about… not thinking…"

Jerry smirked. "Good answer."

* * *

"Is there actually something in there?"

Jack kept his hand out, in it an envelope. "Jerry said to put it in an envelope. So no one would read it."

"Jerry, did, huh? You know… We wouldn't've read it if you didn't want us too."

Jack shrugged.

"Can I read it?"

Jack stared at him. Didn't he just say… "It's in an envelope."

"I know. I kind of wanted to know what happened though…" Bobby took the envelope from him.

"Nothing."

"Did you write that? Nothing happened?" He lifted the envelope. "Seems thicker than a page, Jackie."

"I wrote it really big."

Bobby laughed. "So you don't want me to read it?"

"It's in an envelope…" Jack persisted.

"Yeah, I see that…" Bobby agreed. "It's fine." He stuffed it into his back pocket. "I won't read it. I'm gonna drop it off when I go out to pick up the pizza for lunch. You wanna come?"

"I don't know."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Your window's done, by the way. No more sleeping with me."

"Why would he sleep with you?" Angel asked as he walked by them to go sit down and watch TV. "You snore. And that's kinda gay."

"Kinda gay?" Bobby echoed.

"Yeah, Mr. Macho. Kinda gay."

Bobby gave him a glare. "Look, Ang. Unless you want my foot up your ass…"

"So you like putting things up guy's asses now?" Angel smirked. His smirk disappeared as Bobby stormed over towards him. He put his hands up, as if surrendering, and objected, "Okay, okay, Bobby," but Bobby still walloped him across the head. "Ow…"

"Shut up, dumbass." Bobby glared at him.

"Stop it…" Angel rubbed his head irritably and then kicked Bobby in the shin. "Stupid cracker."

Bobby hit him again. "Grow up."

"Go get the pizza, Bobby." Angel glared back at him. "Take Jack with you, you dick."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm _hungry_. Go get it. Should have gotten it from a delivery place."

Bobby sat down beside him and elbowed him. "How 'bout you try being sympathetic to people sometime, huh?"

"How 'bout picking up the food sometime, huh?"

Bobby just rolled his eyes.

"Are you hungry, Jack?" Angel demanded.

Jack just shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess."

"There you go, Bobby," Angel said. "The kid wants you to get the food. Now you should definitely want to go."

"Angel," Bobby replied, "go shove it."

Jack didn't know what they were talking about, but he watched the two of them exchange deadly looking stares.

"Jackie." Bobby looked up. "My keys are on the counter. Go get them."

Jack hesitated for a second and then left to go get them.

"Angel…" Bobby began. "Why couldn't you be more like your name?"

Angel smiled. "Sorry, Bobby."

"Just give him a break, huh?"

"He's been sleeping with you?"

"Two nights, Ang," Bobby admitted. "Just two nights. And now it ends. I hope."

"You let him?"

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Say no."

"Why?"

"Because he's being a huge baby, that's why."

"He's eleven."

"I know, Bobby."

"You can sleep with me too when you're scared, Angel…" Bobby teased, sticking his finger into Angel's ear.

Angel grimaced and swatted Bobby's hand away. "I'm fine with it, Bobby. You want to baby him, then go ahead and baby him. I don't care. I'm just hungry."

"I know you tease 'cause you care, man," Bobby said. "But give him a break. He's easily shook. We've already been through this."

"Aw, whatever. Cracker Jack and I talk just fine. Go get the pizza and stop giving me a hard time." Angel watched Bobby reach to take the envelope out of his back pocket. He saw him start to open it and said, "What's that?"

"I'm just curious. It's what he wrote. About what happened…"

"Ooh. I want to see."

"I don't think he wants me to see it."

"Then _why _are you opening it?" Angel looked at him like he was crazy. "And he's coming back in like a second too."

Bobby stopped. "Yeah, you're right."

Angel laughed. "Man, I wanna see too, though. Open it quick."

"Nah, you were right the first time. I want him to trust me." He pulled away when Angel tried to snatch the envelope. "Ang, stop."

"You were gonna do it first!" Angel objected. "I'm sorry I said anything at all."

"If he wanted me to know, he'd tell me."

"He put the envelope in your hand, Bobby. It's yours now."

"Well, bitch to Jerry about giving him envelopes then," Bobby retorted.

"Jerry did it?

"Yeah."

Before Angel could reply, Jack was back, keys jingling in his hand, and both the older brothers stopped their moral argument.

"Yo, snowflake," Angel greeted him.

"Okay, Jackie, let's go." Bobby pushed himself off the couch. "Angel's poor sense of humor will still be here when we get back."

"You know…" Angel answered, "… you're really lucky you're coming back with pizza or I'd be pissed about that comment."

* * *

"Okay, I'll be right back."

"No…."

Bobby hesitated, hand on the car door. They were sitting outside the police precinct and he was about to run in and drop off Jack's statement. The car smelled strongly of the two pizzas sitting in their boxes on the backseat.

"No?" Bobby echoed. "You change your mind about giving a statement?"

"No. Don't leave me."

Bobby wasn't sure why that tugged at him so much. He told himself to be a man. Teach Jack to be a man. "I'm not leaving you. I'll be back in a second."

"Isn't he in there?"

Kevin, Bobby realized. He wished he could just kill this Kevin character and be done with the whole thing. "I don't know, Jack. I'll be back in one second." He opened the car door to get out but Jack latched onto his arm.

"No…"

Bobby gave a small laugh. "Okay, then, kiddo. Come in with me."

"NO." Jack's voice was insistent.

Bobby sighed. "If he's in there, Jack, he's behind bars or handcuffed, or both."

"Don't leave me."

"You won't come in, I can't go in alone… What the hell do you want me to do with this?" Bobby waved the envelope in Jack's face. He pried Jack's hand off his arm and started out of the car. "I'll be right back."

"Bobby!" Jack insisted.

Bobby leaned down and stuck his head back into the car. "You want me to keep the radio on?"

"No."

"If all you can say is no—"

"I don't want to be alone in the car," Jack said quickly.

"Okay." Bobby sighed. "Jack. I'll be back in a minute. You can time me."

Jack looked miserable. "Can you keep the car running?"

"Why?"

"So we can leave quick."

"Like a getaway car? We could leave quick if you stopped arguing with me. And the pizza's gonna get cold. You want Angel to flip a shit when we get back?"

"Bobby."

"Okay, Jack. I'll be back in a minute." Stubborn, Bobby left and slammed the door behind him. He went into the precinct, talked briefly to an officer, and was back in the parking lot within a few minutes. When he approached the car, his stomach turned a little bit when he couldn't see Jack. Empty was the passenger seat. On the back seat all he saw was pizzas.

On further inspection, he noticed Jack sitting on the floor of the car, curled up, in front of the passenger seat. He laughed to himself, more relieved than anything, and got back into the car.

Jack sat up straight, startled, hitting his head on the glove compartment.

"Oh, come on… Get off the floor, baby…" Bobby said sympathetically. He reached down and rubbed at his head. "You okay?"

"I didn't want anyone to see me."

"Well, good job then, I guess." Bobby turned the key in the ignition.

"Did you see him?"

"No. I didn't."

"Is he still in there?"

"I'm sure he is."

"Did you ask?"

"No." Bobby shook his head. He gave Jack a look as he crawled back onto the seat. "You want me to go back inside and ask?"

"No," Jack admitted. That involved Bobby leaving again.

"Didn't think so. Let's go eat pizza."

* * *

Jack sat in his room quietly, sitting on his bed and strumming his guitar on his lap. The window was closed, locked, and all panes of glass were intact. He had to admit that he felt slightly better, although he was still a little unnerved when he thought about the other night.

"Hey," Bobby said from the doorway.

"Hey," Jack replied.

"You like the guitar?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." Bobby paused. "Danny was asking."

"Does he want it back?"

"Nah, it's all yours, cupcake," Bobby laughed at Jack's nervous question. "Most people don't take back gifts, you know?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess."

"You gonna sleep in here tonight?"

Jack nodded again. "Okay."

"I mean… You can… I mean, if you really get scared, you can sleep with me. But I'm just sayin'… The window's fixed and everything." Bobby shrugged. "Hopefully there's nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared."

"Okay."

"It's better now."

"Okay." Bobby smirked and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Then one favor you can do me. If things are 'okay' now, and you're not scared of anything…"

Jack felt himself grow nervous. What was all this? What was he going to say? It could be anything. Maybe they'd realized that something was wrong and that he couldn't stay anymore. Or maybe Kevin had come back. Maybe he'd read his statement. Jack was holding his breath.

"Unpack," Bobby said.

"What?" Jack asked, letting out the deep breath.

Bobby pointed at the bag on the floor, which had remained full for the past week. "You live here. Act like it and unpack your bag. It's been a week, kid."

It had been a week. Only a week since Anthony dropped him off and hadn't looked back. He felt like it had been a lot longer than a week, and he did feel a bit differently than he had when he was dropped off. But he knew he was the same person. And again, nothing would change the past.

But Bobby was right. He might as well unpack.

"Okay."

Bobby grinned. "Good, Jackie." He walked away.

Jack sighed. Maybe unpacking would unfold a better chapter in his life.

* * *

**THE END**

**I hate ending things... So... Yeah. We'll see what happens. But this is what I'm going to call the end for now. **


	36. A Tale of Four Brothers: Part 2

**Author Update:**

It's been a few years, but wanted to let everyone know that I decided to write a sequel to this story. It is available at the following link:

s/9174878/1/A-Tale-of-Four-Brothers-Part-2


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